


Moonlight Shadow

by OKami_hu, oksammich



Category: Guardians of Childhood - William Joyce, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Boarding School, Camping, Cuddling & Snuggling, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 03:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/769610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oksammich/pseuds/oksammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of the friendship between Artemis von Lunanoff and Kozmotis Pitchiner... and how that friendship ended in disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was murderous

It happened a few times before, but this time, Artemis von Lunanoff was ready to shed blood. That bastard, that commoner, how dared he? Curse his polite smiles and his perfect manners, how did he DARE to assume that the heir of House Lunanoff was going to dirty his hands with setting up tents and chopping up wood?

"For the last time, Pitchiner," he growled with ill-contained rage. "Do your chores and don't talk back to me. Don't forget who I am!"

The Sol Aurum Academy was the best in all the Empire; but that didn't mean that the cadets' life was just books, fun and games. They had to study real hard, and undertake a lot of different training, swordsmanship, different sports... survival. Their class was divided into pairs, got some equipment handed to them and they were sent off to the woods with the simple goal of staying alive and reaching the gathering point. Artemis couldn't quite understand why he was here. He’d never get into a situation like this. He'd be safe behind the lines, coordinating the troops on a map - IF perchance some minor conflict happened, because the glorious Golden Age hadn’t seen a serious war for several centuries.

And most definitely, he wouldn't be accompanied by such a useless aide.

"And for the last time, Lunanoff," Kozmotis answered, with such unaffected clarity that it enraged him, "You either chop the wood or clean the fish. If you don't, we will not have dinner this evening."

His voice never fluctuated, remaining even as he leaned his hands on his knees and caught his breath. At his feet was the last of the firewood, about a dozen heavy, thick logs that needed to be chopped and split as soon as possible. It was already getting dark, the sky overhead more purple than blue. "I don't want to sleep on an empty stomach."

The Tsarevich bristled. At least there was one thing they agreed on. They were both swordfighters, and that reduced their possibilities a bit; either they set traps for the game or fished. Game seemed to be rather scarce, so they followed the small river; it kept them in direction and offered food, too.

Raw food.

Artemis gritted his teeth and stomped to the tree on the side to retrieve the axe. At least he'd be able to vent his anger. And he wouldn't have to touch that smelly creature. For a moment, he drifted off, thoughts returning to the palace, to the smoked salmon filet and caviar that glittered like pearls on a piece of fragrant white bread.

"I'll do the wood," he announced, then added "and start the fire. Be quick with the fish." That was best done down by the water so at least he won't have to look at that smug face.

Dragging their meager catch to a stump, Kozmotis withdrew a short blade and sliced the biggest fish up the gut. "Thank you, Artemis."

The other boy visibly flinched. He even pointed the axe at Pitchiner. "NEVER call me that again, do you understand?" His name should have been a point of pride, but the Tsarevich often wondered if this was a curse, or a test his parents made him live with. It sounded so infuriatingly feminine! Thankfully, most just called him 'sir' or 'my lord'; what few real friends he had were allowed to call him Arty. But he was not going to tolerate that from that good-for-nothing peasant.

His stomach gave a rumble, so he was forced to concentrate on his task. He felt a bit guilty imagining his classmate in place of the logs... but only a bit.

Pitchiner started at the sudden outburst, hands flying up as something landed in the grass out to his side. With a long-suffering sigh, he dropped to his hands and knees. "Is that not your name?" he asked, without even the slightest lace of bitterness in his voice.

"My first name," Artemis growled; every word was accompanied by the sound of metal striking wood. "Which you aren't supposed to use! It's either Lunanoff, or 'sir' to you!" He never called the other Kozmotis, either. Not when he transferred to Sol Aurum from Cygnus Alba, the second most prestigious academy in the Empire. Not when he immediately became top of the class, beating the Tsarevich easily in more than one subjects. Artemis first bristled, then raged, then began to actually study. He never felt that hard pressed to do it, but he couldn't have that commoner beating him! But he still didn't call him by his first name when the scores evened out, and he was still not going to start. Family names were good things.

With a grunt, he split the last log and managed to calm himself enough to pay attention to the task of fine chopping; long, thin pieces made a lot better kindling

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the commoner crept around like some dog, hunting for something in the darkened grass. "Do you mind to stop belittling me long enough to finish the fire? I've dropped the knife."

"That's just typical," Artemis rolled his eyes as he arranged the firewood. It's not that he didn't know how to do it; and albeit he was arrogant, he had some common sense. A careless fire was dangerous. "I thought you were rather good at everything? And now you just throw away the knife and can't even find it. Are you even sure you dropped it? It could be in your lap. By the stars, who even drops a knife he's using...?" Deep inside he knew he was not being just. He just didn't care.

"My hands were trembling because I have spent the last seventy-two hours completing double the amount of my appointed duties." Still calm. Quiet. Even. _Arrogant_. The peasant had no idea who he spoke to. "Perhaps if I had a partner willing to pull his own weight, I wouldn't be so tired."

Artemis threw down everything from his hands, rose and stomped over, ready to strangle his comrade. "You insolent lowlife, that was the last remark you’ll ever make! I'll teach you not to mess with royalty!" The emotional tension broke forth and the Tsarevich didn't even try to reign it. He launched at the other, ready to break his bones, consequences be damned.

The response was a blur, but the lurch in his stomach was enough of an indication that Arty had been caught, blocked, and tipped up and overhead. Then, Kozmotis was upon him. Shirt in one hand, he cracked a punch across his cheek without realizing what he was doing.

Sometimes, shock is a beneficial thing - Artemis' mind locked up at the sudden pain, because it was so surprising. He had never been hit in his life. Spanked once or twice, as a misbehaving little child, but even during spars and lessons, everybody was extra careful with him. Moreover, the blow came from some commoner. How dare he?

But his rage was no brighter than embers now. Artemis lay there, with his comrade on top of him and he stared at Kozmotis wide-eyed and in perfect disbelief. "You hit me..." he stated almost timidly. "You... hit me." Hesitantly, he touched his own chin. Nothing was broken but the dull ache lingered.

The lanky boy stared down at Arty, panting heavily as he fought to catch his breath. He had to have known what he’d done. He sat atop the Tsarevich's abdomen, straddling the waist as he clenched his hand tight. "..it appears I did."

A pair of well-cared for hands shot out and grabbed the front of his tunic and Artemis wrenched him close. The Tsarevich stared into his comrade’s green-gold eyes hard. Suddenly, something was boiling in him again, but it was different from before; there was a hint of rage, yes, but-

Those pretty hands seized Kozmotis’ head and pulled him further down where eager lips attacked his with all the fervor of a teenage boy.

There was a moment where breath caught and he had the satisfaction of feeling the great Komotis Pitchiner go tense in his grip. For all their training, no one explained to hormonal boys how best to deal with outbursts such as these. But, Artemis was impressed by his adaptability, for Pitchiner’s tongue thrust deep into the his mouth, reminding him who was on top. Reminding him who was the best.

This was apparently the day of surprises.

Artemis' eyes widened and he fought back, his fingers sliding into the other's dark hair, so he could grab him better and hold him close. Being a royalty came with many privileges; few ever dared to tell him no. The fine girls of other nobles often sought him out, craving his attention and affection in hopes that they could be his wife on a day. So Artemis had plenty experience with soft lips and frail bodies full of promise of becoming curved and plump at all the right places.

He did kiss a few boys, too, out of curiosity but never before did it feel like this. Kozmotis was opposing him, fighting him, trying to dominate him and it infuriated and awed Artemis in one breath. Just who did this boy think he was? Such insolence, such rudeness, such... challenge, thrill, delicious, delicious fire. For a fleeting moment, the Tsarevich knew that Kozmotis Pitchiner was destined to become a hero.

And he was going to make him his hero.

The Tsarevich was as difficult as they came, stubborn and haughty and arrogant. He was finally able to see that even those negative traits had their use, as the fighting grew more frenzied. Kozmotis was going to have to work for what he wanted.

He gripped Arty's wrists tight enough to bruise, then forced them down on the ground near his head. His teeth provided a shock of pain as they sank into his lower lip, then allowed him to worm his tongue right back inside. Below his waist, his body was hot and responsive, manifesting as an unmistakable presence against Arty's lower belly.

When the Tsarevich realized just what exactly that pressure against him meant, he was so surprised that he momentarily gave up control - and that was enough for Kozmotis. Artemis wiggled, but he couldn't get away. First time in his life, he wasn't dominating and it felt oddly nice. He slowly ceased struggling and let the other overwhelm him, possess him. Kozmotis was a damn good kisser.

Artemis' body wasn't unresponsive either, the heat pooled in his nether regions, making him buck his hips and moan into the kiss. He wanted this. He wasn't entirely sure what ‘this' was, but he wanted it bad. More pleasure. Release. Kozmotis, that bastard, who was his only equal.

Their frenzied breathing was the only sound he could identify for the moment, as he accosted the wicked tongue and abused it with firm sucks, shallow bites. He was grinding, his long member against the other, knees pushing wide so Arty couldn't shut his legs.

With a gasp, he drew back. His pupils were dilated, body tight with tension, and though he was just as aroused as the Tsarevich, he looked rather innocent at that moment. "I'm going to sleep," he said.

What?

Artemis stared as if he had been slapped across the face. Sleep, now? When they were both on fire, burning from the inside out, when they finally stopped fighting? He felt too good to stop. Without even a conscious thought, he summoned all his strength - and he didn't waste much of that in the past three days - to roll themselves over. Now he was on top but didn't immediately assert his dominance. "No, you aren't," he stated simply, as a matter of fact. He leaned in for another kiss, slower this time. Their bodies were tangled up, perfectly aligned due to their similar height and Artemis rolled his hips with a delightful moan. He never tried this before, but he was glad he did now.

His back hit the ground and he pushed up, finding a similar point of arousal beneath Arty's hips. Roughly, he groped his ass and pulled down, providing a sinfully decadent round of thoughts to fingers in places they didn’t belong. They were caught in a heated battle--both were hard, kissing deeply, yet for all the pleasant feelings, they were in perfect reach of hurting one another.

"Sorry," Artemis breathed, giving further proof that he was really gone. He offered his throat like a submissive animal; he grabbed Kozmotis' shoulders to hold onto something and he thrust forward. Then again and again, moaning from the pleasure of rutting like a beast in heat. They were still clothed, laying on the dirty ground in the middle of the forest and this was the best damn shag the Tsarevich ever had before.

"Let me-" he panted. "K-Kozmotis... let me...!"

The proud Kozmotis Pitchiner was gone, too, covering the delicate flesh of his throat in nips and sucks that would definitely welt, bruise, prove what they had done. Bracing his feet on the ground, he thrust up against him. He could feel the shape of his hard testicles, the base of his shaft; the head was pinned against Kozmotis' stomach. "I want you to," he ground out between clenched teeth, though he didn't know what exactly he was referring to, "Give it to me, Tsarevich."

Artemis let out a grunt, maybe as an affirmative, because his movements became faster, more forceful. Kozmotis felt so hard and hot, and he rubbed himself against him enthusiastically. Soon enough, he felt the familiar sliver of pain in his lower belly; his balls tightened and after several more thrusts, he came, whimpering, biting his lips and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't care that he was dirtying his clothes - the orgasm wiped every coherent thought from his brain. He shuddered and twitched on top of his greatest rival, pressing his face against his shoulder.

Shaking, he lifted his hips enough so he could free himself with one hand. His manhood was thick and swollen, rock hard and ready to reach completion with just a little more stimulation. He pushed Art's hand down around it then squeezed tight, using the texture of another's palm to quickly bring himself to release.

It didn't take much more before his hips were lewdly humping the hand around him.

Artemis sobered up astonishingly quickly as his fingers touched erect flesh; having a boy in his hand was new, but it felt... right. He squeezed firmly and tugged, wanting to see the other come apart as well. Suddenly, he was back in charge, and it filled his chest with a rush of pride. "Now you give it to me, Pitchiner," he murmured, eager to hear the other's moan of release.

Nails dug into Arty's fine ass and pulled the cheeks apart, no doubt leaving marks even with the cloth to protect the skin underneath. Breath came in soft huffs through his nose, eyes snapping shut as hot seed filled von Lunanoff's hand.

Everything was silent for a few minutes, save from the usual sounds of the forest and the slowly settling breathing of the two boys. Artemis felt calmer than ever, he could finally think clearly. His pride was still strong, keeping him from admitting his mistakes, but he wasn't angry with the other anymore.

Finally, he rose, climbing off his comrade. He wiped his hand on the grass, then reached under his shirt, pulling a two inch wide, circular pendant forth. He opened it and poked the tiny creature curled up inside. "Come on, wake up." His face was suddenly illuminated by a bright pale green glow.

Shame nudged its way past the haze of pleasure, inciting Kozmotis to cover his eyes with his hands. There was a bit of concern left, that perhaps he’d become witness to a tantrum or frenzied weeping, but all of that fled when gold and green eyes fell to the worm. "..have you had that the entire time?"

"I smuggled him in, yes. Technically, we shouldn't have... luxury items with when on survival." He picked the worm up and held it out. "He'll sit on your hand, so you can look for the knife. I'll unpack the tent and, well, I'll try to set it while you gut the fish. It'll still be good in the morning if we wrap it up in some leaves." He looked up, his face calm, void of any mockery. "Is that alright with you?"

With a scowl, he held out his hand, allowing the tiny creature to crawl over and illuminate the ground. The knife lay just out a half-foot from where he'd been cutting their dinner up in the first place. Rolling his eyes, he bent down to pick it up and douse it with a splash of water from his canteen.

Their little tryst couldn't have lasted more than twenty minutes, probably less, because it still wasn't completely dark. Artemis von Lunanoff set to putting together the skeleton of their small tent, which would be soon covered by the strongest glowworm silk. He fared rather well - he always showed a knack for putting things together.

In the meantime, Kozmotis continued salvaging the remains of their dinner, cutting the fish and doing his best to cast the bones to the side. After about a quarter hour, he wrapped the corpse up in leaves and tucked it away in a shallow hole.

They quietly cleaned themselves up and retreated to their tent in a more or less confused silence. They wrapped themselves into thin blankets against the cool night air and Artemis put his glowworm back into the pendant. Darkness engulfed them along with a troubled conscience. Both boys were uncomfortable with the affair they had, more or less.

Artemis chewed on his lip for a while, then cleared his throat. He needed to know if the other was angry with him. “Pitchiner...? I- didn’t mean to attack you so. I’m sorry.”

The silence across the darkened tent was such that he was almost certain his companion had already fallen asleep. Through the faint light from the moon, he was able to see the sleek profile of his reclining body.

"It's nothing," he said finally, with the same softness as always.

That wasn't as reassuring as it sounded. Moreover, Arty realized that he might have been misunderstood.

"I, um. I apologize for dragging you into- a situation that- made you uncomfortable." Apologizing was definitely not his strong suit, and suddenly nothing made sense anymore. Artemis wished if digging a hole and hiding into it would've been an option.

His broad shoulders shifted. "It was merely a gentlemen's disagreement. I too behaved poorly."

The wording was deliberate, careful, avoiding the true subject of this apology. "I am grateful for your words and hope you will pardon my reaction as well."

"You do have a mean right hook."

Kozmotis chuckled. "And you a vicious temper. I fear for our enemies when you take the throne."

At the quiet, velvety laughter, Artemis felt immediately better. He chuckled as well, finally feeling as if some kind of burden just rolled off his chest.

"We'll make them cry!" he declared, then shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He knew he was going to have a good rest. "Sleep well, Pitchiner."

"And best dreams to you."


	2. Chapter 2

The chatter of the cadets died down in the showers already; only a few late boys were present, lazily toweling themselves and preparing for a well-deserved rest. Today's swordplay session was tough and long. Most of them just wanted to sleep.

"Aren't you coming, Lunanoff?" a tall blond boy asked, turning to Artemis, who was fumbling in his locker.

"I need to find something first... Just go ahead without me," he replied. He sounded a little annoyed; but he’d been searching for his misplaced belongings for quite a while now. The others just shrugged and left one by one.

Artemis glanced after them. He couldn't leave just yet, he was waiting for somebody!

And there he was, his proud gait marred by a slight limp and eyes standing out like stars over a pummeled cheek. Nobleman or not, Kozmotis Pitchiner was a soldier first; top student or not, he never backed down from those clamoring for his title, even if one was heir apparent. Today was proof enough of that.

He paused near his small locker to undress, baring rich skin with efficient movements. Artemis found it odd how he folded his clothing before placing it in the laundry cart, but he supposed it was just something commoners did. On long, trembling legs, Kozmotis strode to the showers and stood still as the last of the hot water beat down on his face and chest.

That peaceful abandon gave Artemis the opportunity to feast his eyes on the other. It's been two weeks since that survival training that started a change in the young Lunanoff's behavior. Before, he was openly hostile toward Pitchiner; now he was more neutral. He greeted the commoner when they met with a nod and ceased to throw insults altogether. He realized something out in the woods... and during the last two weeks, this realization, the blurry suspicion have cleared up. Now he knew what to do.

For example, right now, he wanted to stare at that rather nice backside.

Pitchiner was slightly different from the other boys; a little harder and darker, for letting the sun kiss his skin a lot more readily than the pale aristocrats. He was tall for his age and definitely strong, with well-shaped limbs. Puberty was rather kind to him, either not distorting him much, or maybe it happened before he came to Sol Aurum. He already had a young warrior's body, and Artemis thought, it wasn't below a Tsarevich to appreciate that.

The young Pitchiner's behavior hadn't changed much since that strange night. As always, he was courteous to Artemis Von Lunanoff--but only just as courteous as he was to everyone else. Perhaps it was little more than an odd dream to him, and this handsome, popular lad had merely filed it away with the rest of his romantic encounters. He watched as Kozmotis turned to drench the rest of his body, freeing his skin from the scent of sweat and Academy dust. Soap came next.

Even the simplest motions looked decadent when performed by those long fingers; Artemis remembered quite well just what those hands were capable of. So, as Kozmotis' eyes dropped to half mast and he lathered himself up, Arty knew exactly how wonderful he was feeling.

He had to swallow hard a few times and eventually turned away to calm himself. He was not stalling, he really wasn't. It's just, the matters he wanted to discuss were rather serious, and he wanted to give his comrade the opportunity to clean himself first. Some basic courtesy, nothing more. Once calm, he stole another glance, not wanting to miss the moment Kozmotis was just finished. Steam lingered around his lovely body, partially obscuring him and Artemis was thankful for that.

Thankfully the time came rather soon. While he rather wished Kozmotis would spend more time pampering himself, he was not at all surprised that the entire ordeal lasted less than six or seven minutes--practical, efficient, appropriate.

The faucets squeaked once, twice, then the flow of water ceased. It took only another moment for him to dry his body and circle a towel around his waist, then trail wet footprints from the stalls to his locker.

He towel-dried his hair and paused once to slap aftershave on his cheeks and jaw, filling the room with the sharp scent of something clean, maybe some evergreen.

Artemis just sort of strolled out of hiding with a grace possessed by his long line of ancestors. He paused at a polite distance from the other and addressed him.

"You were late, Pitchiner. Thank the stars the others left you enough warm water." The words could have sounded like mockery, but his tone bore none of that; it remained warm and friendly, just striking up a conversation.

"I was watching you out there- You did exceptionally today." He topped the praise with a nod.

Kozmotis’ shoulders went tight, hands freezing in place near his clothing; no doubt, he was expecting a fight.

Glittering eyes turned to his, raptorial in their intelligence and drive. And his mouth, so harsh in words and soft when kissed, relaxed before he spoke: "I thank you. You were rather impressive yourself."

Again, Kozmotis exposed his back to Artemis, dipping his chin and making the tendons in his neck tighten deliciously. "The instructor wished to speak to me after class. It looks as if I had just enough water."

"I see. Well- I've waited long enough for you... I wish to have a word with you." Artemis took a deep breath. "I have treated you most uncouthly in the past for no other reason than surpassing me; and for that, I want to apologize. It was unbefitting of someone of my standing. You have proved yourself capable and never once got back on me for my insults. I hope that you'll be able to forget about my foolishness." There, he said it, and he said it proudly. Artemis felt oddly light-headed. This was the first time he admitted his own faults. But Pitchiner deserved an apology. He was... special.

For quite some time, he was only able to see the graceful curve of his back. Pitchiner quietly unfolded his uniform, one garment at a time, and laid them on the bench beside him.

The wait was agonizing.

When the silence became painful, Kozmotis took mercy. He stood and turned to face him, head tilted as he held out his right hand. "Consider it forgotten." With a smile, he gripped Artemis' hand and pumped it firmly. "My Lord von Lunanoff."

"C-call me Artemis," the Tsarevich stammered - he was immediately lost in that smile, and his eyes roamed without his consent; around the sharply drawn collarbones, down on the smooth chest, flat stomach... the white towel and that barely noticeable bulge beneath white cloth-

Artemis' cheeks flushed and something underneath his own towel twitched.

Color kissed Pitchiner's cheeks--no doubt he'd noticed the reaction as well. "Artemis, then. But von Lunanoff in public?"

He withdrew his hand, then settled it over his mouth as if in deep thought. "We should dress and return to our rooms--I have to study."

“Come on now, you always study so hard.” Artemis took a step forward. “You can take it easy once. And you should smile more.” He was slowly advancing on the other boy, though not threateningly. “I bet the girls fall for that smile. True, you mentioned something like that... And I don’t doubt your word. You’re charming and handsome.”

But he backed away, eyes dropping to the floor in such a display of shyness that Artemis was overcome with the need to grab him. "I wouldn't say that exactly. If my grades fall, I will lose my scholarship. My father will be disappointed."

"You have one of the greatest minds for theoretical subjects, and for the more hands-on ones, you never need to study," the Tsarevich reasoned. He reached out to curl his fingers around Pitchiner's arm.

"Please don't run away from me. I'd like to spend more time with you."

Kozmotis moved to withdraw, but Artemis was too quick. He took hold of his forearm and held tight, even as long fingers twitched and curled in all nervousness. "I'd be happy to, as soon as I am dressed. We can study in the library, or if you'd like to visit the dormitory, you'd be most welcome."

Artemis mulled over that briefly. He longed to press his body against the other's, like before, but Pitchiner offered a better option for a little intimacy than the showers. It was getting colder anyway, the tiles were hard, the floor slippery and probably the cleaning staff would arrive soon, and that might have disastrous results. He released the captured arm, fingertips caressing the darker skin slowly and he smiled.

"That's a good idea. I'm curious about your room!"

\--------------------------------

He still looked stunned when they arrived at the dormitories. The rooms were small but private, Kozmotis' moreso than he expected. He admired the slender curve of his back, his dark hair still damp from his shower, clothes still lightly clinging to his skin.. In the tiny room, he could get catch the spicy scent of his soap, as well as a bit of mint.

"This is all it is," Kozmotis said quietly, after scooping up a stack of books and setting them on his small desk. "Er, would you like to sit?'

"Thank you." Artemis settled down on the bed and smiled. "I barely know anything about you, would you mind sharing some information? After all, friends keep few secrets from each other."

"There really is nothing to tell," he answered softly. Kozmotis seemed reluctant to look Artemis in the face. "I'm the son of a soldier, and earned a scholarship to this academy."

"That is what I know," Artemis encouraged gently. "What rank is your father? And what does your mother do? Do you have siblings?" He frowned a little. "I have tried so hard to ignore you that I don't even know that. It wasn't very courteous of me. You seem to have a great talent for swordplay - did your father train you?"

His reply was strange. Kozmotis Pitchiner craned his neck, green eyes fixing on Artemis in such a way that it made his skin tingle pleasantly. "Forgive me for saying so, but this is hardly the sort of thing our studies are concerned with."

Kozmotis gave a brief smile and settled down on an uncomfortable--looking stool. "I suppose we can begin with history." He cracked open a book, long fingers flipping through the pages.

Artemis sighed. "Come on now. You have boasted about your endeavors with the girls, you're not the one who spends every single moment awake with studying. We don't even have history tomorrow. I want to know more - about you. But if my presence bothers you or I make you uncomfortable, I can leave." The hurtful jabs about rank and lies were on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them back. He really didn't want to offend Pitchiner.

He laid the book in his lap, looking up with a tight frown. "There is nothing remarkable that I could say."

Pitchiner's voice was soft. "My father served your father through the last great war. He was wounded a few weeks before surrender, his leg made lame so that he cannot walk without a cane, or ride for long. He used to ride for hours." He brushed a hand over the wing of his own nose. "My mother is a seamstress, but also assists with baking and cleaning at the larger homes in my village. I am their only son."

"They must be very proud of you!" Artemis exclaimed. "I'm sorry to hear about your father- what is he doing now then? With an injury like that, he can't serve on any ship. Did he get an honorable discharge and a fair pension?"

He saw the hesitation in Kozmotis' fair face, and immediately felt a gnawing at the pit of his stomach. "My mother is able to support us," he finally answered. "For that I am grateful."

"WHAT?" Artemis nearly jumped up. "How did that even- Your father is basically a war hero, he shouldn't have financial problems! House Lunanoff rewards bravery and loyalty, if your father is not getting what he damn well deserves, then somebody is stealing it, and I'll see to it that the bastard would be properly punished! I can't believe something like this can happen in OUR army!" His fists clenched. "Do not worry, as soon as possible, I'll write letters to the people responsible, and your father will have that is rightfully his." His cheeks were flushed lightly with honest rage. House Lunanoff, as most powerful of the Celestial families have always honored its soldiers and hearing of a scandal like that made Artemis' royal blood boil.

He startled Pitchiner again, enough that the book slipped from his hands and into the floor. "It wasn't my intent to ignite your wrath," said he, laughing softly as he bent over to collect it. "You truly will make a fine tsar one day. Even when you are angry, you strive to justice."

The blush stayed. "Thank you," Artemis said quietly and reached for the book as well, but found the other's hand instead. "My father always told me to be just and merciful, because those are the best qualities of a ruler. It inspires loyalty and love in the subjects and a king who is loved never truly loses a battle." He hesitated, fingertips sliding against Pitchiner's skin. "I have been neither as of late and not it fills me with shame. I want to make you love me." He looked into those brilliant green-gold eyes pleadingly.

The long fingers jumped underneath his hand, skin hot and soft from his bath. "I love the kingdom, and my heart and body belong to its king. I will die to protect your family."

Pitchiner did not stand. Artemis could see him tremble, the clear eyes beginning to glaze over; he scooted back, but his back bumped the desk behind him, causing it to rattle loudly.

Two arms trapped him there in the next moment, though the Tsarevich didn't lean closer.

"You're shaking- why is that? I don't want to do you any harm. I'd just like us to be friends, good friends. I'll prove to you that I'm deserving of your affection. You are my equal, Kozmotis. I want nobody's friendship as much as yours... When I'll be a Tsar... you'll be a Warlord. A General. My general." His heart was beating faster again.

He saw Pitchiner's hands tense, balling into white-knuckled fists in his lap. His tongue, pink and moist, darted out to sweep over his lower lip. "Your apology was enough. You do not have to do anything else for me to admire you as my future king."

His breath puffed out once, sweeping over Artemis' cheek.

The Tsarevich got more confused by the minute. He noticed the nervousness, the tense muscles like coiled springs, ready to snap - and he had no idea what was causing this.

"Kozmotis- Are you unwell?" His heart was racing with worry now. "If I wouldn't know better, I'd assume you're afraid of me for some reason!" He cupped Pitchiner's jaw, gently tipped his head up and kissed his forehead like his governess used to when Artemis was a little child and she suspected him being feverish. The smooth forehead beneath his lips didn't feel hot though, more like oddly cool.

He was silent. As close as Artemis was, he could feel his long eyelashes fluttering across his throat. "..I don't understand what you want from me."

"And I don't understand why you act like this, you had no problem punching me on survival and when I kissed you, you kissed back!" Artemis's entire chest was aching now. If Kozmotis was going to tell him it was just a horrible mistake and he was now repelled by even the idea... He had no idea what he was going to do.

Artemis von Lunanoff had fallen in love with Kozmotis Pitchiner.

Kozmotis took him by the shoulders and pushed him back. The look in his eyes was frightening, near-predatory. "We were confused," he answered firmly, "What happened was not intended by either of us. You and I were both tired, our nerves were on edge--it was just an accident."

The Tsarevich's breath hitched from the pain. So this is how heartbreak felt. "I know, but... It felt so good," he muttered, lowering his head. "It felt... right. You wanted to defeat me. Nobody ever tried that before, and you just- You made me see how much better you are than the rest. You were not afraid of me, neither did you want to get into my good graces expecting a reward. And I'm sure you'd never do either." His eyes stung. Artemis blinked to make it go away.

"I really want to be your friend, because you're the only honest boy I know. I want you to be my general. But... I also think you're handsome and that you k-kiss very well."

"Kissing always feels nice." Kozmotis' hand felt so good on his cheek, brushing tenderly back and forth over his jaw. How could he hurt him and heal him in the same movement?

"Please, Artemis.. don't be upset." He was humiliated to look into those bright green eyes, so perceptive and so very beautiful. The thumb across his cheek brought him hope that he wanted so badly to ignore. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to cause you pain."

Artemis nodded weakly; he knew it was the truth. He threw his arms around his comrade, drawing him into a tight hug and hiding his face into the crook of his shoulder.

"Do you hate me now?" he asked with a shaky sigh. Kozmotis smelled nice and his body radiated a soothing heat.

"Never," was the gentle reply, followed by those strong hands on his waist and a soothing kiss to his temple. "You are my friend. I want to make you happy."

Artemis tilted his head up so sharply that he nearly bumped his forehead against Pitchiner's nose. "Happy," he echoed hollowly but then sobered up. "You claim that, so it's not that you don't like me, you just don't like boys - except when you're upset." He briefly wondered how beneficial it would be to annoy Kozmotis into a seething rage. "But you also say kisses feel nice, so... would you kiss a friend? Or let a friend kiss you?"

Kozmotis gulped audibly. "If you would like to kiss me, then.. I suppose I can't stop you." His fingers twitched yet again. "And it would make me feel a bit better, for wounding you so."

Artemis dug his fingers lightly into the slender waist he was holding, looking thoughtful. "I don't want you to do anything you disagree with only to please me. In fact, I expect you to talk sense into me when I desire something I should not. But just this once... I'll be selfish." His eyes closed halfway and he leaned to his friend's lips to taste them. His heart was beating wildly again, clinging to the dim glimmer of hope.

His mouth was tense at first, but relaxed with just a few more moments of contact. He tasted like mint, mouth fresh from his teeth just being brushed. Both hands still rested on his shoulders, just as gentle as could be--these were the same hands that had punched him, wrestled him to the ground, then stole his very heart.

Artemis melted against Kozmotis, pressing a little closer and sliding a hand up over his chest to finally rest on his nape of the neck; but the Tsarevich didn't pull him closer. He just tried to deepen the kiss, eyes finally fluttering shut. He wanted to lose himself in that kiss. It just felt so good.

Warm palms slid over his cheeks, guiding his head to the right. Against his lips, he felt Kozmotis say something. He parted his lips, and it was to a shy stroke of the tongue--Pitchiner was gentle, so very gentle with him, prodding between his teeth.

Artemis replied with enthusiasm, opening his mouth wide, inviting the other in. He curled his arms around his friend's wide shoulders, fingers diving into his short, dark brown hair. His body was stirring pleasantly, but it wasn't prominent yet - but it was going to be, if the delightful contact would continue. And Artemis was definitely not about to stop.

"Is that enough..?" was Kozmotis' hoarse question, as he pulled back to try and catch his breath. His voice was strained; Artemis could feel his body heat building against his stomach and chest. He was apparently a top performer in all things, for he slowly licked Artemis' lips before doing anything further.

"Do you really want an answer to that?" the Tsarevich breathed before attacking those skilled plush lips with fervor. By now, he could feel his erection straining against his pants and decided to risk it - he ground his hips against Pitchiner's, to show him just what an effect he could have on a future ruler.

The commoner--no, no, his friend-- groaned out against his mouth. Pitchiner didn't try to scoot away from him, not that he would've been able to what with their cramped location. Those long legs spread wide underneath Artemis, hard body arching into his, so he kissed harder. "Please.."

What...? Artemis's focus was momentarily shifted from the amazing kisses - 'Please'...? Please what, Kozmotis made clear that he wasn't-

His heart jumped into his throat. Maybe... Maybe Kozmotis just didn't know he was interested. It happened to young people! And anyway, sharing intimate moments was not unheard of among soldiers and close friends. Or Artemis was just that good. He grinned into the kiss and slid a hand down, mapping out the firm chest, the slender waist, the firm hips and finally - albeit a little shyly - came to rest on the front of the pants.

"What would you like?" Artemis questioned, barely audibly.

The other boy's strong throat flexed as he swallowed, delicious adam's apple bobbing, pleading for Artemis to stroke with his tongue or sink his teeth into. He could feel the shape of his manhood, hot and thick under his sleeping pants. It was a little moist too, but not nearly as big as he would've liked. It seemed Kozmotis needed a little encouragement. "I just.. want you to be.. happy.." He tilted his head away, skin feverishly red.

"Looks like you're happy when I'm happy, too..." Artemis remarked cheekily and grabbed his friend's shoulders to shove him back on the bed. Not leaving time for protests, he flung his tunic over his head and tossed it aside then climbed on top of Kozmotis and proceeded with more kissing. Artemis slipped his hand under the other's tunic and when his fingers encountered a nipple, he rolled it curiously.

The kisses drew a symphony of the most beautiful sounds he'd ever heard, his deep voice thrumming in pleasure. At least he hoped it was pleasure. It sounded like pleasure. His nipple perked up between Artemis' fingers, and underneath him finally, he felt pressure against his thigh. His eyes were squeezed shut, though. "You don't have to do this."

"But I'd like to," Artemis licked his lips. "But you don't have to endure it. You are dear to me and I don't want to hurt you." It was just like back then, except now it was planned. Artemis rubbed his hips against his friend's, moaning from delight.

"It's fine.." His voice was still strained, which he took to be a good sign. Pitchiner's feet pressed into the mattress, and he bucked up with shyness. It was adorable to him, how beautiful and vulnerable he looked then. "Just.. nothing inside, alright?"

"Inside-?" Artemis blinked at his friend in confusion then the information he gathered from whispered rumors and blurry hints suddenly clicked, making him blush. "Nno- nothing inside. Trust me." The idea never even occurred his before and it didn't sound particularly pleasant, either. Pitchiner could rest assured about that.

He kneeled up, hooking his fingers into the waistline on Kozmotis' pants and prying them off. He leaned down to drop a kiss on the hard stomach and dip his tongue into the navel - some girls liked that - before wiggling out of his own trousers. “I have an idea..."

Any relief his friend might've felt faded suddenly when Artemis ventured further. He flinched--actually flinched!--and tried to snap his thighs shut. Artemis' body prevented that, but it was still a bit disappointing. When he looked up, it was to catch Pitchiner as he threw his arm over his eyes. He was still hard, at least.

Artemis stilled, taking in the sight. This was not right. He had been taught to never force himself on lovers and loved ones. Without a word, he stretched out next to Kozmotis, pulled him into an embrace and pressed small kisses against his temple and cheek.

The thin body trembled in his grasp, proof enough that Kozmotis probably intended to go along with this despite any reservations. "..I apologize," he muttered to Arty, as he slipped a hand down between them. The touch was hesitant, apologetic, but it still felt hot around Artemis' cock. "Here, I.. I'm not sure if this is how you like it, but.."

"I-it's going to be fine... perfectly fine," Artmis breathed. "Kozmotis... can I touch you as well?"

"I don't know if I'll--" At that moment, Kozmotis talked himself out of something, but he chose not to elaborate. Finally, he nodded, turned his head, and pushed his palm flat to Artemis' penis, gently fondling it between his thighs.

Artemis did not hesitate either; he curled his fingers around the erection matching his. He remembered that it delighted in a firmer treatment. Maybe if he can show his friend how nice it felt, to share pleasure, Kozmotis would relax. No Lunanoff have ever backed away from a noble challenge.

His friend groaned quietly, the sound sweeter than any woman's voice to Artemis' ears. Though his arousal had withered a bit, it suddenly surged back to life, dripping clear fluid down Arty's fingers. The hand around him quickened its pace but never tightened, as if Kozmotis was afraid to hurt him.

"A little firmer would be okay..." the Tsarevich panted. "Just, uh- like you do it alone. You want to make me happy, don't you...?" He felt slightly evil for pulling that card, but... He wanted to find release. And give it to his friend as well, of course.

"Yes, sir," Kozmotis breathed, sounding more than a little desperate. His grip tightened, one hand against Artemis' hip, then suddenly, both the pressure and speed seemed to double. Slick, lewd sounds filled the room, as he was finally given the attention he wanted. Kozmotis Pitchiner was jerking him off as if his life depended upon it.

Artemis von Lunanoff returned the favor and it didn't take too long for both of them to reach the peak. Artemis was first to tense up, gasp and bite his lower lip to keep down the loud moans; Kozmotis followed soon after, eyes squeezed shut and trembling lightly.

Too soon, Kozmotis pulled his hand away. The loss of contact was disappointing, but not altogether unexpected. He cracked his eyes to see a furrowed brow and tight frown on that handsome face. "..was that alright?"

A breathless chuckle replied him. "Yes," Artemis nodded. "You have firm hands. And a considerable talent." He hesitated a little. "How are you feeling?"

Kozmotis answered with a nod. He sat up, the line of his shoulders stiff, and leaned to grab hold of a handkerchief, using it to mop himself up. Then, he offered a clean one (monogrammed, Arty noticed). "I'll collect our clothes."

"You didn't answer," Artemis pointed out, taking the soft cloth and wiping himself. "Kozmotis, this is important. Be honest with me."

He paused with one leg already inside his pants. "Oh? Ah..." After a short laugh, he stood and hauled his trousers up to his waist. There was a twin set of dimples at the base of his spine. "Tired. That's all."

Artemis wondered if he was the only one hearing that noise, as his heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Tired. That was all. Not 'like never before'. Not 'great'. Not even 'good'. Just tired. As if it had been a training session, or a long run.

He reached for his own clothes and began to dress, feeling tired as well. He wanted to sleep. He wanted to die. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the voice of reason told him it was only to be expected but his poor broken heart was having none of it. And worst of all, he couldn't even be angry with Kozmotis. He already did more than he should have.

Every now and again, Kozmotis would pause, stare at his hand, then wipe it roughly along his pant leg. Like it was dirty..! "I apologize for my clumsiness," he continued on, just as gentle and sweet as always, as if he had no idea what his words were doing to poor Artemis von Lunanoff. "I'll be returning to the showers shortly--shall I walk you to your room?"

"Thank you, but it's not necessary. If anybody sees us together... I mean, most of the boys are sleeping already. I'm tired as well," Artemis' voice was soft. He had no idea why. Every single word was like a glass shard in his throat. "Have a good night, Kozmotis. And thank you." He stepped to the other and briefly hugged him, then headed for the door to finally be alone with his misery and cry himself to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. If you actually saw the previous third chapter, please forget it ever existed. It was horrible.

The day started off with bright blue skies and the deceptive promise of an unseasonably warm winter's day. Sol Aurum was full of restless minds and darting glances, as the pupils rapidly scratched over exams with trembling quills, splashing dark ink against wells and over white paper. Outside, the grounds stretched out with the last green of the year, offering one last day of physical activity before the students and staff filled the roads and air with various carriages rumbling toward home. All of the pent-up energy from the month-long break from fencing, riding, and exercise, the self-control to study for final exams rather than concentrate on plans for winter vacation, the gruelling last-minute subject matter and assemblies dictating rules for leaving-and-coming-back, a brisk afternoon game was a welcome end to this most stressful of occasions.

Unfortunately, by the time classes were dismissed for a well-earned two week holiday, the blue skies disappeared behind smoky clouds of grey and white, and the emerald of the manicured lawns were covered in the last brown leaves of autumn, blown over by a biting north wind. Sol Aurum heaved a sigh. Weary-eyed figures in gold, navy, and black filtered from the darkening buildings, to disappear into the dorms for one last restless night within the academy gates.

But, there was one lad who was all too grateful for an afternoon indoors. Among the disappointed faces was one shining as bright as all the stars in the sky, his dark eyes sparkling as he weaved and bobbed through the crowd of finely-pressed uniforms. The Tsarevich Artemis von Lunanoff himself, always the first to groan (and the loudest), thanked the heavens for this opportunity: there really was no better time for some contraband and one last night with the beautiful, alluring, ever-tempting Kozmotis Pitchiner.

Once he shouldered his way to his quarters, he burst into the living area and obnoxiously rang for a servant. Arty didn't stop until an exhausted-looking man politely beat against his door.

"You called, sir?" the poor fellow asked, managing an impatient smile as Artemis darted to and fro, changing from his uniform to his recreational clothing.

"Send word to Kozmotis Pitchiner that his presence is humbly requested." Arty paused to haul his undershirt over his head. "Have his luggage brought over, whether he agrees to a visit or not."

His impromptu messenger bowed crisply. "Very good, sir."

Artemis waved a hand, but then a thought occurred to him. "And his books."

"I beg pardon?"

The Tsarevich grinned to himself as he poured cool water from a ceramic pitcher into a shallow dish, preparing to wash his face. "Bring any books you find laying about. We can't have him starting on his studies too early." A bit of water splashed over onto the floor.

"Of course, sir."

"I will also be in need of two helpings of dinner this evening." He made sure to speak up the second he heard the servant's foot hit the ground. Artemis splashed his face and scrubbed vigorously, before drying himself off with a towel. "Knock thrice and leave our cart by the door. I don't wish to be disturbed during our visit."

"Of course, sir."

He casted the towel to the ground, then kicked it aside. When he returned from his closet, freshly-dressed and searching for a comb, the servant still stood in his doorway, looking at him expectantly. Artemis scoffed. "Good gods, man! Pitchiner isn't going to fetch himself!"

The closing door wasn't enough to muffle the fellow's string of curses, but Arty couldn't bring himself to care. At the palace, he'd been called far worse. At least he would soon have Kozmotis to soothe his bruises.

*

Within the hour, Lunanoff's living area was full. His own trunks and suitcases took up most of the space, but the shabbier, more practical set of a trunk, case, and garment bag resided neatly at their side as though they belonged to the Tsarevich himself.

His lackey for the evening (the one with the smart mouth), reported that the good Pitchiner was nowhere to be found in the dormitories, so a note was left 'pon the inside of his door with directions to his belongings. As requested, the servant hauled an armful of books to Artemis' chambers; once he was alone again, he gave it some thought and decided that his message was best expressed by starting a fire, pushing a lounge table over, and stacking the books precariously atop it, near the crackling flames.

\------------

Dinner arrived before Kozmotis did. In fact, Artemis had nearly given up on his comrade's arrival when his annoyed knock (five raps, hard and fast) sounded on his chamber door. Gleefully, Artemis shrugged on his robe and greeted his friend with all the joy in the kingdom. "Kozmotis!" he cried, "What a surprise!"

The lad's handsome face was schooled into a scowl, but Artemis could see the smile hiding in his green-flecked eyes, swimming in molten gold. Their intelligent gaze took in his surroundings, resting on a spot behind Artemis' shoulder for longer than he liked. "My books! Are you mad?!" Ah. He'd located the bait.

Kozmotis burst in, carrying the chill with him. He smelled of snow and pine--a quick look outside explained it well, as a light flurry of snow blanketed the darkening day. Another scent followed him, clinging to Pitchiner's inexpensive cloth coat that probably did little to fend off the cold. Artemis recognized it a floral perfume that had become popular over the autumn. Artemis' current lass liked wearing it too. "You call it madness, I call it leverage." And before he could stamp it out, jealousy salted his voice: "What took you so long?"

"Ereste wished to see me." Artemis rolled his eyes knowingly, watching tight-lipped as Kozmotis placed his books somewhere less flammable. "She wanted to spend some time together before holiday."

"Ah. Well, I understand. She is very important to you." Artemis von Lunanoff did not sound bitter. He did -not-. Ereste of Aurora was no more a threat to his bond with Kozmotis than the numerous girls that came before her. With a smile, he lied through his teeth: "I hope I did not interrupt any important plans."

His friend waved one lovely, dark hand. "Not at all. She was eager to be rid of me."

A sense of victory welled up in Artemis' chest, though it was dampened when Pitchiner removed his coat and scarf. Tiny love marks dotted Kozmotis' strong throat. They were fresh. "And why is that? Most of the lasses want to be on your arm any chance they get."

"She is less than generous," Kozmotis laughed as he moved to the food cart. He asked if it was alright to eat--Artemis answered with a sarcastic "no" that made his dearest friend smile. "I made a request of her that she found most disagreeable."

Artemis waited until Kozmotis took a seat before grabbing a plate himself. He flopped down most ungracefully beside him, sure to breach Kozmotis' personal space best he could. Arty pulled up the lid and sniffed disapprovingly. Cold sandwiches, how very remarkable. "I've told you before, Kozzy: if you want two lasses at once, it's best to be on good terms with a pair of girls that are close friends. Alcohol helps immensely." He brightened. "Speaking of which--"

From beneath the cushion of an ottoman, Artemis produced an unopened decanter. With gusto, he poured two glasses and presented one to Kozmotis. The wine was rich and dark, but smelled deliciously sweet. "I thought we should celebrate."

Kozmotis shook his head, gracing Artemis with another heartbreaking smile. "You are such a troublemaker." He paused to take a sip--Artemis was delighted by the rather feline expression that relaxed his friend's face. "And for that I am grateful. But no, Artemis, I requested something far less extreme."

"That being?" The Tsarevich took a bite of his sandwich.

There it was, that plebeian hesitation that endeared Kozmotis Pitchiner to him so! It was a wavering of the lips, ears flushed and neck hot, and a sudden pausing of all movement. Arty's heart raced in appreciation. "I asked that she use her mouth."

Artemis nearly choked. "And she said no?!"

With his eyes lowered demurely, Kozmotis nodded yes. "She called it disgusting, and called me even worse for wanting it. She asked if I thought her some whore!" His friend's head swiveled. "I insisted not, I was just curious, but I don't think she believed me."

“The problem with the finer stock of ladies is,” Artemis held up his index finger, like his most beloved teacher, “that they aren’t as adventurous as they claim to be. Sure, they’re pretty and well-mannered, but they tend to be way too proper, even those aspiring to serve in the military. I don’t see why they’d disapprove if it... It’s not that they have to swallow, we are completely exposed to them while they do it and it’s a lot safer than other things...” He raised his glass and took a sip.

"She would have none of it." Kozmotis sagged back into the sofa, worrying his glass between both hands. "She wept, you know--asked if she wasn't good enough in other areas. I should never have asked."

Artemis frowned. "That doesn't even make sense...! You told her you were just curious- Why would she even think that she's not good enough for you?!" He rolled his eyes. "She almost sounds as if she was just looking for a reason to dump you... though even I doubt that'd be the case. Well, she'll have plenty of time to calm down." He scooted closer and curled an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Never feel sorry for asking. How else should you learn about your partner's preferences if not by asking? You had no idea she was not comfortable with it." He lightly clinked his glass against Pitchiner's. "Don't look so gloomy, it's not the end of the world."

The strong shoulders relaxed under his arm, muscles bunching only when Kozmotis took another sip of wine. For all of his experience with the fairer sex, young Pitchiner still had much to learn when it came to other fine things in life. After only half a glass of wine, his cheeks were already flushed and his eyes were glassy. "I feel like a deviant."

Briefly, Kozmotis pulled away to grab half of a sandwich. He sat back near Arty but did not bite, merely staring at the merry fire while holding his dinner in both hands. "I won't even suggest using my mouth on her. I may be curious but I am certainly not daft!"

A sip, and then: "I'll not dwell on it. We've more pressing matters." Kozmotis tipped his head, smile backlit by light and warmth. "The only downside to having you for a friend is that you are so difficult to select a gift for. What does one buy for the man who has everything?"

Pitchiner nudged him with a laugh. "Give me some direction, old chap! I'm at a loss as to what I should bring you for winter solstice."

"Oh, I could think of a few things..." Artemis mused, leaning his head on his arm that rested on the back of the sofa. Why did this damn commoner have to be so fine-looking, enterprising and... well, loving. He have never felt this connection, this security with any of his friends before. He could be sure that Pitchiner genuinely liked him.

"A few books, a new diary, a good pen would delight me and of course the usual expensive things. Though now that I think about it... I have never received anything handmade. I mean, something that wasn't crafted by some renowned master." He kept sipping his own wine, almost absent-minded. He have developed some tolerance to alcohol; he was older than he looked thanks to his Celestial genetics and he used to enjoy small amounts of fine wine or sweet spirits back at the palace with the meals.

"A hideous quilt it is." Kozmotis swayed, grabbing the decanter of wine and shakily filling his glass. Apparently, Artemis had done a fine job in choosing the drink. "My mother taught me how to sew patches, you know. I can put together a shoddy blanket for you--it won't be very pretty, but it will keep you warm."

Laughing merrily, Pitchiner's head plunked down atop Lunanoff's arm, too. He always smelled good, his natural scent and practical cologne making for an essence that was entirely Kozmotis. Arty pictured a sloppy patchwork quilt and shuddered--the entire thing would probably smell like him, after being worked under beautiful hands and a careful gaze for so long.

“I'd even deal with the offending sight," he chuckled, refilling his own glass as well. "Only because it was from you. But I wouldn't want you to spend your entire vacation on sewing. Just having you here and seeing you smile is gift enough. I love you so much, my friend. I want nothing more than to remain in your heart forever." He sighed. "I'll miss you during the upcoming weeks."

Kozmotis snorted. "It will take me only a few days." Teasingly, he rapped the bridge of Artemis' nose with his knuckles. "Don't be so melodramatic. Our holiday is only two weeks long. We will be back with our noses to our books before you even realize it."

His hand unfolded, the long fingers brushing across Artemis' cheek to rest on the back of his neck. With the alcohol in his system, his eyes looked to be an even brighter shade of green. "You know of my fondness for you. I will miss you as well."

"I have half the mind to kidnap you, so we won't have to part," Artemis mused. "But your parents haven't seen you for quite a while. I'm sure they're very proud of you, you're growing up to be a fine man." He smoothed his hand over Kozmotis'. "We haven't even left, and I'm looking forward to coming back. I need to set up some private extracurricular lessons for you with some of my excellent acquaintances."

"You don't -do- extracurricular activities." Those vibrant eyes slid shut. Was Kozmotis leaning into him? "It is a battle of the worlds to get you to study. Why would you willingly set up something educational?"

"Ooh, but it's for your sake, my dearest friend!" Artemis theatrically pulled his friend's head on his chest. "You are thirsty for knowledge and I'd be a rotten bastard if I didn't try everything to help you! The lovely twin flowers of the Tiger Lily Manor are best suited to educate you. I can even make it your solstice present. But only if you insist."

The Tiger Lily Manor was a prestigious brothel at the nicer part of town, which had quite a fame among the Academy's male students. Since most of them came from wealthy backgrounds, they had money to burn, and some young nobles had their first experience with women there. The Madame was fond of strapping teenage boys and was well aware of their heavy purses, so the girls of Tiger Lily were always very kind to the cadets. At age fifteen, they already counted as young men, so it was not forbidden to visit the establishment - until they were discreet about it.

Kozmotis didn't put up a fight, simply toppling into Arty's chest and laying still while he spoke. "I appreciate it Artemis, really, but--"

He shifted, but apparently couldn't sit up. It took all Artemis had not to laugh in delight as his dearest friend awkwardly maneuvered his glass of wine to his lips and drank deeply without spilling a drop. "I cannot bring myself to take someone that I barely know. Ereste of Aurora has been my lass all this year, and you know well that we've progressed slowly. Curious as I may be, I would not be comfortable sharing myself with a stranger." Pitchiner's handsome face was flushed, lips tight as he turned to lay his head in Artemis' lap. "I am not passing judgment on anyone who has," he included gently, "But-- well, do you understand?"

"I do," Artemis claimed with a sigh, letting go of his friend, though only as long as to place a firm hand on his shoulder. "You are an adorable fool, Kozmotis, but that's part of the reasons I love you so much." He leaned closer, to place a quick peck on Pitchiner's lips. "I'll have to get used to the fact that you will never get acquainted with the joys of fellatio. Which is a pity. I think you'd like it." He downed the contents of his glass and refilled.

"I fail to see why it would bother you so much." The long-limbed Kozmotis Pitchiner grabbed hold of the sofa's arm and hauled himself into a disgraceful heap against the cushions. He looked preciously disgruntled, trying to nurse his cup of wine and missing the rim at first.

"Because it saddens me to see you miss out on life's pleasures!" Artemis claimed. "It's fun and feels really good." He was dimly aware that the wine might be stronger than what he was used to, but he ignored the warnings.

"I had the pleasure to receive such service before, and I can tell you... It's a unique experience."

He had to pause to assist his friend, as Kozmotis reached for the decanter again and grasped at empty air. Artemis shook his head and refilled his glass for him. "The thought is exciting," said the young Pitchiner, "A woman's mouth is so very soft and sweet."

His normally-crisp words were tumbling a bit, some of his lower class upbringing now surfacing in a rather remarkable drawl. "What's it like, Arty?"

The dark Lunanoff eyes fluttered shut. "It's... wet. not slick-wet, like your lover's cunny, more like... watery. It's not quite as hot either but still nice warm. It's the tongue that makes the difference. She'd kiss and lick your shaft first, all soft lips and gentle massage that leaves saliva on your skin that dries quickly, and it's chilly. And she sucks the head into her mouth... it's really nice. Meanwhile she can fondle your jewels, too. My girl could swallow me whole..." He shuddered from the pleasant memory and shifted in his seat, wetting his lips with the wine before continuing. "And the sight- It's so sinful. Have you looked before how your penis slides into a cunny...? I think watching her sucking on you is better. It's so filthy, but... deliciously so. It's like you're degrading her, but she could bite you any time and when she looks up, you can just see it in her eyes that she loves it and she won't and it's like having full control and giving it all up at once."

Kozmotis Pitchiner was so good at guarding his expressions, leaning more to the side of neutrality when he was interested or disgusted. Even partially inebriated, his skill was evident. Artemis wasn't certain how his friend was handling this influx of new information. As always, he listened with unreadable attention, looking very much the part of a proper gentleman as he reclined with his glass.

Of course, Artemis knew him well enough to search for certain cues. If Kozmotis was unhappy, the corners of his mouth tightened and made little lines near the nasolabial crease. They weren't there. His brows were furrowed--a red flag for anyone else, but a sign of intrigue when shown on Kozmotis' face. Curious, Artemis let his gaze drop a bit further, and to his delight, found that one elegant hand rested innocently over his lap, carefully obscuring a reaction that otherwise would've been glaringly obvious. "I see," said Kozmotis simply, as if he'd just listened to instructions for an in-depth assignment, "It certainly sounds exciting."

"It so is!" Artemis agreed wholeheartedly. By now, he was affected by the alcohol, too, which brought along a less sophisticated style of speech. "I wish I could show you-" He paused, eyed his friend and pursed his lips thoughtfully. "I could show you... I really could." The idea was quite tempting all of a sudden.

His friend barked with laughter, head falling back into the sofa cushion. "And how do you intend to do tha'?" Kozmotis waved his hand toward the servant bell. "You going to call for her? Tsarevich or not, I doubt a lass would be too keen on some rascal starin' at her while she takes you in her gullet."

"I'd have her do it to you," Artemis purred as he rose and climbed halfway over his friend. "But that wasn't my intention. I don't think I'd like some random lady of the night have you in their mouths. You need to experience this with somebody who would be careful... gentle." His hand came to rest on the inner side of Kozmotis' thigh.

Either he was too far gone to care or too interested to push Artemis away; whatever the reason, his friend didn't balk. Instead, he fixed the Tsarevich with heavily-lidded eyes, his lovely mouth curled into a grin. "Your lass is lovely, but I shan't use her affections for you. And Ereste would be none too gentle." Pitchiner chummily clapped a hand onto Art's shoulder. "I guess you'd be the instructor, eh?"

Was that- acceptance? Artemis blinked once, taken aback by the lack of vehement protesting, but he quickly launched at the opportunity. "I'd love to. I'm quite curious, and you're curious, too. I can see that you're interested." He leaned closer, caressing Pitchiner's face with his knuckles. His insides were trembling. "Would you like that? Will you let me?"

Again came a bout of laughter, Pitchiner's head tumbling back to hit the sofa with a loud "thump". "Oh, what a fine actor you'd make, chap! You had me going for a moment!"

The angry hiss clearly spoke of royal disapproval. "I mean it...! Come on. I seldom play games! I really would!" To stress his words, Artemis pressed a hand lightly against the front of Kozmotis' pants. "I'd do this for you, and only you. Please let me." He leaned in for a sloppy kiss, tasting those tempting, thin lips.

If Pitchiner intended to respond, Artemis would never know. He tasted that surprised, uncertain mouth, then felt it relax almost immediately. The unspoken permission was exhilarating.

The taste of wine was heavy on Kozmotis' tongue, richer and far more decadent than the rarest spirits in the Tsar's personal wine cellar. "You're serious," breathed his beloved, speaking now against Artemis' lips. The Tsarevich couldn't help but taste him again, flicking their tongues together.

"As serious as I can just be. I want this. Even if you'll never return my love, at least accept the pleasure. It'll be better than last time, I promise...!" Artemis draped himself over his friend, greedy hands attacking the clothes and his eager tongue invading Pitchiner's mouth. "I love you so much...!"

Sighs broke over his lips, which turned into frenzied breathing as Artemis pushed Kozmotis down onto the sofa. His friend's mouth moved against his own, clumsy and wet, but still, to Arty this was more exciting than kissing the most beautiful girl in Sol Aurum.

Finally, he felt what he desired: arms around him, fingers pressing into his back through the robe and tunic he wore. Slowly but surely, Kozmotis Pitchiner was relaxing. "I do care for you--" That low voice was cut off by a strangled groan, as Artemis pressed his palm against his stiff groin. "--but I don't want you to feel you must.."

"Love is not 'must'. Love is love." Artemis made valiant attempts to open buttons, clasps and laces, any by the time he managed, he was trembling with anticipation. He pushed every layer of clothes aside until he got to his treat to devour: Kozmotis Pitchiner's smooth chest. The Tsarevich launched at it like a starving man, kissing the darker skin and licking it, paying special attention to the mocha nipples. then he began to trail downward, impatiently tugging on the pants.

Kozmotis Pitchiner was truly a treat for the senses: beautiful to behold, his strong scent intoxicating as any wine, flesh and muscle smooth as marble, a luscious dessert to the tongue, and the sounds--ah, the sounds he made!

He knew from experience that his dear Kozmotis was a restrained man, taking pain and pleasure alike with nary a sound. Yet this evening, with snow swirling against a coal black sky, the noises came like a symphony. He whimpered under Artemis' affections, exposing sensitive areas never considered before. Near his hips and waist, he was especially responsive, so the Tsarevich was sure to cover those spots in the most loving touches he could manage.

And more alluring still was the promising bulge that strained against loosened trousers. When Artemis tugged downward, the sight of Kozmotis' manhood was nearly enough to undo him right there. It was stiff and demanding, the clean scent of masculinity making his mouth water in anticipation. Pitchiner's face was a sight in itself, glittering eyes and flushed cheeks as they stared openly at one another. Artemis von Lunanoff recognized the ferocity in that gaze: Pitchiner wanted him. "Please.." his beloved spoke, amplifying that knowledge tenfold.

“Yes.” The proud heir of an empire pried off his lover’s underwear like some eager whore, freeing the flesh from its confines. He didn’t waste any time; Artemis brushed his lips against it, showering the heated shaft with wet kisses as if it had been a precious trinket. Small licks followed, the taste upon his tongue intoxicating, and he rubbed his face against the penis lovingly.

He gave the proper attention to the head next; the foreskin was thick, too, hiding his weeping slit with promise of a delicious taste. Artemis carefully pulled the skin back, breathing the masculine scent deeply. He eagerly ran the tip of his tongue over the shining head then swirled his tongue around it. The texture fascinated him. He steadied the shaft with one hand while the other splayed out on Kozmotis' belly, caressing, lightly kneading.

Above him, the respectable young lad swore like a common scoundrel. Artemis felt long fingers in his hair, slowly threading down to grip at the roots. Kozmotis was watching him intently, eyes glittering like stars and chest heaving as he finally relaxed under Artemis' hand.

Artemis waited for a moment, intrigued by Kozmotis' lips moving as if he was trying to speak. "I.. like when you look at me.." he finally managed, voice tight.

The Tsarevich grinned. "I bet you do." He grabbed the handsome erection and opened his mouth wide to finally suck it in. Keeping his eyes on his friend, Artemis' tongue moved restlessly and he knew that he very probably looked - and sounded - like a cheap whore, but stars and suns, it was _fun_. The fact that it was his beloved Kozmotis he serviced probably added quite a lot to the experience.

He tried his best and judging by the noises and profanities, he was doing rather well. His tongue moved restlessly as his head bobbed, the taste of precome heavy on the back of his tongue. He kept glancing back up, partly to please Kozmotis even further and partly because the sight of the handsome face was making his heart beat faster.

Their eyes locked for only a few more moments, when suddenly Kozmotis tossed his head back and let out an animalistic growl. His heavy member pulsed on Artemis' tongue. Even as experienced as he was in other matters, it appeared that he wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer at all.

Artemis von Lunanoff was pulling his beloved friend apart and he loved every moment of it.

"Nn, waitwait--" Pitchiner's back arched off the sofa, his muscles trembling and tight. He pulled at Artemis' hair, too--ever the considerate lover. "Arty wait--I can't..!!!"

 _'Yes, you can,'_ Artemis thought in a slight daze, his eyes drifting shut as he all but doubled his efforts. _'You can come into my mouth and I'll drink every drop. What have you done to me...?'_ He wanted it, his friend hot seed in his mouth, trickling down his throat. The thought was so dirty and so delicious the same time. His nails lightly scratched Kozmotis' stomach.

That was all it took.

Kozmotis Pitchiner came with a sharp intake of breath. It would've been disappointing to anyone else, but to the lad suckling his penis like a starving tart, Pitchiner was practically screaming. His seed was everything that he'd imagined, thick and virile and hot and -plenty-; it filled his mouth and cheeks, trickled out of his lips.

But none of it compared to the memory of Pitchiner coming undone by this forbidden kiss. His face was awash with bliss, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, and every inch of him was trembling in the aftermath.

Artemis swallowed, too far gone with awe and lust to even register the unusual consistence of the pearly essence. Seeing his friend in the throes of such passion made him dizzy with joy. He felt so proud, so happy. Sort of filthy too, but delightfully filthy. He let the still hard penis slip from his mouth, covered in saliva and semen and licked his lips. His own erection just registered and Artemis pressed a hand against his crotch, palming himself with a little whine. Still a dutiful young man though, he began to clean up with long licks, finding that he didn't mind the taste at all.

"Suns and stars, th-that's filthy," moaned the beautiful beast, his eyes completely glazed over. Pitchiner twitched with every touch of tongue to flesh. "And you're aroused! What am I going to do with you?"

Artemis' shoulders began to shake. He buried his face into his friend's lap and his whole body trembled; but before panic could have taken Kozmotis, the Tsarevich threw his head back and continued laughing.

"Y-you think you can sew me a dress?" he inquired between two soft hiccups. "You got yourself a new girl! He batted his eyelashes with a smug smirk. "I knew you'll like it! And I liked it, too." He calmed down a little, looking into Pitchiner's eyes. "It was fun. And I think I like you in my mouth." He licked his lips again.

The stunned expression on those hawk-like features faded to softness, a warm smile creeping up to rest there instead. "You're more a jester than an heir apparent, Tsarevich von Lunanoff."

Kozmotis held out one long hand, and when Artemis grabbed it, he was pulled up to lay alongside his comrade's lean body. It was a tight fit, but after a bit of jostling, they laid on their sides and facing one another. Sometime during their romp, one of their wine glasses tipped and spread the fruity alcoholic scent all over the floor beside the sofa. It was of no concern to Artemis--that's what the servants were for!

"You would hardly be a proper lady." Arty opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a tipsy kiss and a warm palm against his groin. "If you were my lass, you'd haul up your skirt for me at any time," Kozmotis breathed into his mouth, tongue darting between his teeth, "You'd be more trouble than you already are."

"You're right, you're right... Oh Kozmotis...!" Artemis let everything go, he just kissed back hungrily, grabbed his friend's shoulder and draped a leg over his hip to give more room to the stroking hand. On second thought, he freed himself quickly, then took his friend's hand and pressed it against his hard flesh with a moan and began to practically hump it. His own need couldn't be ignored anymore; the pinch of decadence and penchant for hedonism lurking in his royal blood was showing.

Whether it was true desire, alcohol, or hormones, Kozmotis took him in a firm grip and began to stroke. He was always so unsure about their strange companionship, shying away from mutual pleasure like this, but this eve, something was markedly different. Not only was Pitchiner jerking him with skill, he was pouring attention over Artemis that he'd only dreamed of. Kisses to his lips, his face; decadent words that encouraged him to soil that graceful hand; an arm around his waist, crushing his body to Kozmotis'; and his gaze, maddeningly beautiful, was fixed on Artemis and Artemis alone.

"You're so good," Kozmotis murmured, sweeping his thumb over the head.

It didn't take long to reach the peak; almost sobbing from joy, Artemis tensed up and came hard, his seed spilling over Kozmotis' strong fingers. His hips jerked once, twice, then he went boneless in the embrace, panting as if he had ran a race and delighting in the scent of the other's body once he buried his nose into Pitchiner's collar.

"By the suns and stars, I can barely lift a finger;" the Tsarevich murmured. "You're so talented... I love you."

Kozmotis' big nose and prominent chin pressed down into the top of his head. The lad chuckled lazily. "I bet you say that to all the boys," he jested, words slurred even more than before.

"I don't do boys," Artemis mumbled. "It's just you. I don't even tell that to girls..."

His dark hair was ruffled up between Kozmotis' hands. "Then I love you too, my brother." His lips were warm against Artemis' forehead. "You are certainly the best friend a bloke could ask for." Then, with a short laugh, Kozmotis added: "If not the strangest."

The Tsarevich merely shrugged. "You'd be surprised... Plenty of great historical figures did crazier things than loving another man." He yawned. "I can't keep my eyes open... I loathe to move but we should... kinda. Want to sleep here? your stuff's here anyway."

"I was hoping you'd offer." Artemis shifted to stand. Lazily, Kozmotis squirmed about on the sofa, slipping off the crumpled remains of his clothing, then finally laying still when completely nude. He looked comfortable on the sofa--and dare Arty think, beautiful too. His rich skin was painted gold by the firelight. "May I have a blanket, good chap? I'm afraid I can't feel my feet."

"You could just come to my bed, y'know... It's big enough for two," Artemis mentioned, motioning toward his bedroom. "But if you insist, I can fetch you something..."

"Had you a pair of naked breasts, I might consider." Kozmotis chuckled lowly, his eyelids drooping with each word he spoke. The alcohol and orgasm were clearly setting in.

"I hate you," Artemis murmured with a pout, then slouched off to fetch a blanket. Once he draped the warm, soft cover over his friend, he couldn't stop himself from kissing the smooth forehead, though.

"You'll be in my bed one day... Mark my words," he whispered, then left to practically faint into bed as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Sol Aurum, being a prestigious academy, had many little luxuries to offer to the students. An excellent kitchen and comfortable beds were among those, but also the smaller fencing rooms, training fields and the park served the cadets in passing their time valuably. The lake of the park was well loved; when the weather allowed it, there were boys from every year there, playing, competing and exercising.

It was rather late for that though. The park was already shrouded in darkness; still the careful observer could have spotted two figures moving about in the dark water.

"I swear to you, she was begging me to take her on holiday," the taller of the two called out to his friend, tanned skin lit like liquid bronze, "I've never heard anything like it in my life--I always thought a lady was supposed to graciously accept gifts, not demand them."

He paddled to the side of the lake and hauled himself out, a veil of water clinging to the prominent muscles he'd earned over his years. Kozmotis Pitchiner was growing into a fine man indeed. "When I declined, she insisted that it was just as well, since I was too poor to afford her affections."

Swiping a hand over his face, he crawled out to lay on his side in the warm, sweet grass. His long legs spread slightly, toes curled in the summer air. "She's right, though. Even if I wanted to take her on holiday, my parents could never send us anywhere further than the market at the end of the lane."

"A time will come when you'll be able to take a girl to the end of the known universe," Artemis Von Lunanoff replied as he waded in the shallow water to his friend, swiping the water elegantly off his fairer skin. "The are obsessed with wealth, and those who aren't still get scared of doing their hair alone in the morning." He settled down next to Pitchiner, stretching out his long, well-muscled legs. "It doesn't seem fair that you can't go anywhere though. Then again, at least your father had taken you to camp in the woods. That's more than some of us can say."

At his side, the Academy's top student, its rising star, rolled onto his back and folded his hands behind his head. "There will be little time for that this summer, I'm afraid. Mother's last letter said that Father will be needed to assist with Basic Training at the barracks. They need the money, else he would've refused. Thank the stars he can still oversee the training, even if he can’t participate."

In his handsome face, his eyes were as brilliant as stars. He stared up into the sky with his lips parted, tongue darting out to catch a drop of water that rolled down his skin. "Even if I become some great soldier, I will have nothing to offer a suitable woman. Their faces are beautiful, but their purses are deep."

"You don't need a 'suitable' woman, Kozmotis," Artemis smiled. "You need one who loves you." He lay next to his friend, wiping away a drop of water from his tanned shoulder. "You won't be even seeing your father much, then. What did you plan for the summer? Just loiter around your parents' house? You don't have friends there. I remember that you transferred partly because your father was reassigned, and you haven't been home much ever since."

"They tend not to love unless they know they are comfortable and fashionable." Those bright eyes turned to him, studying Artemis with a predatory intelligence. "No, I haven't any friends near my home. And furthermore, the move was so sudden that there are still boxes in my room waiting to be unpacked. I suppose I can take my books home and study. I'll write you once a day, I promise!"

The Tsarevich smiled brightly, rising a bit only to lean over his friend. "I greatly enjoy reading your letters, you know that. I have kept every single one from the previous years." He dipped his head down to place a quick kiss on his friend's lips. "They brightened my day when I had to miss your company. I can only hope my letters did the same for you."

When he pulled back, he saw a bit of pink over Kozmotis' cheeks. "Of course they do. You're my dearest, most beloved friend in all of this universe."

His hand curled around Artemis' wrist to pull him down, so they laid side by side in the evening darkness. "You must have such exciting times at the palace. You ride every day, don't you?"

"No, I don't go out when it rains. I hate getting my boots muddy." Artemis managed to keep the straight face for three whole seconds, before he buried his face into the crook of Pitchiner's shoulder, to muffle his snickering. "But really, not every day, but I try to. Mother is very kind to me... She says I should enjoy my relatively free days before I become a ruler. Summer is also ball season, so there is usually some kind of an event happening at the palace; balls, as I said, concerts, tea parties, hunting... And we do visit other noble families. It can get quite busy. Barely a breather." He ran a hand down over his friend's side to rub his hip in gentle circles, glancing down to marvel at the well-developed physique, and among others, admiring the fact that the soaked white boxers did not hide much from said physique.

"We also take one week off to go somewhere else. Father says seeing foreign planets up close helps you to understand them and that makes you a better ruler. Starship rides are much fun. Sometimes you encounter comet cruiser pilots, they're incredibly pleasant folk."

Beneath his hand, Pitchiner reacted deliciously. His hips twitched and tightened, legs sliding through the grass until he could link his ankles together. Artemis expected an arm around his shoulders, but it never came; Pitchiner was very particular about physical affection, shying away from kisses and insisting that any pleasure be obtained as quickly as possible. It was frustrating, really.

"If you are this busy when still a prince, I cannot imagine it will be any easier when you are king." His lips tugged into a smile. "You will be a fine ruler. I know this life will suit you well. Part of me is envious--would you care to speak with a pilot for me? I wish to know all about their lives."

"You know... I have a better idea. The summer break is two months. What do you think of spending half of it with me...? It would be the most splendid vacation, ever. You can even stay in my room..." Artemis drifted off for a moment. "You could also come with us and talk to the pilots."

Pitchiner sat up abruptly. "You mean it? Artemis, think of all we could do--we could practice our fencing and sparring, to come back at the top again next year!"

With a sigh, he flopped onto his back, hands sliding behind his head again. "And all of the beautiful ladies of the court will be sunbathing.." After a moment, his smile faded. "I couldn't impose."

"Oh you could. You'll be the friend of the Tsarevich, top student of Sol Aurum! They won't assume you're not a noble, and if they learn of it? They won't bother you anymore, so you could set your sights on the next pretty lady!" He poked his friend in the chest. "Summer heat loosens all the gowns. The ladies are looking for fun or they don't look at all. You can spend my money and save me from the clingy ones. Say yes, Kozmotis...! We could flirt, and practice, yes, and... Spend some leisure time together, perhaps."

"Oh, Artemis.." Pitchiner's resolve was fading fast. His thin mouth broke into a smile again, as he likely imagined all that the summer had in store for them. "You're certain it's no trouble? I'd be willing to work off my debt to you."

"What kind of debt, you moron...? Don't offend me." The Tsarevich lightly punched his friend in the stomach. "You're my friend, my best friend, I'm looking forward to waste all my money on you. I'm heir to a kingdom, for crying out loud. I have an estate and a solid income. You'll be no trouble at all. You might have to put up with my parents now and then, though."

He replied with a merry laugh and held onto Arty's wrist with both hands. "It would be my greatest honor to spend this time with you," he said quietly, "The last hurrah of Artemis von Lunanoff and Kozmotis Pitchiner, before we become true men."

"Oh dear, we have so much to do!" Artemis kneeled up. "One more race before we sneak back to wash and dry? We do have to catch some sleep, the exams are ahead of us." Not that they posed the slightest threat. Both youngsters were excellent students, and did not take their duties lightly.

"I wouldn't call it a race so much as swimming at a leisurely pace while you flail behind me." Pitchiner stood with a smirk, then bent over to stretch out his legs and back. "Perhaps you should wait while I swim a lap, else you'll get too tired and sink like a rock."

"Sometimes I don't know why I like you that much," the Tsarevich retorted and ran straight into the water.

\----------------------------------

The lake was clear as glass when they arrived that morning, manicured lawn stretching to lush hills and a deep, rich forest that afforded them the sort of privacy that many lament. They were too eager for exploring to bother unpacking, so with loud laughter and a fair bit of nudging, the Heir Apparent and his closest friend blew back into the outdoors as quickly as they'd arrived.

Their day was spent on horseback (Artemis on a coal dapple and Kozmotis on a roan), sometimes trading stories, sometimes riding in comfortable silence. Here, the boys could be boys.

Perhaps they were too wound up in their excursion to pay attention to the dark clouds that swept suddenly over the valley. First, there was a bit of cool wind that soothed their sun-baked skin; then those clouds obscured the sun and refused to relent. They were miles from the lodge when the sky broke open. Even with the fine pedigree of their steeds beneath them, the lads were soaked to the bone twice over before they ever made it to the stables.

"Even the rain here is cleaner!" Kozmotis exclaimed (after they'd stored and fed the horses, of course) as he jogged into the side door, tracking mud and water all over the coatroom floor. "Ah, what a ride that was!"

"Indeed and thank you," Artemis nodded royally, prying off his light overcoat. "It is wonderful to ride without restrains. The estate is huge, you can go on for hours. I seldom have the opportunity to gallop like this, even though I can't say I approve of the reason..." he sat down on a carved bench to tug off his boots. "I need a fire, some warm drink, a hot shower and fluffy towels, and yes, you may call me a pansy."

"You rode like a fiend, my dear Artemis!" Pitchiner's face was free of its usual grimness, instead relaxed and gleeful like one would expect of a seventeen-year-old lad. "You would look so fierce leading troops into battle!"

His boots hit the ground with a thump, followed by wet socks and his worn riding jacket. He hauled his shirt up over his head without a care to modesty, goosebumps appearing where cool air hit his flesh. "I could do with a mug of cider myself," he continued as he divested himself of his trousers.

"I'm sure the servants are preparing it as we speak." The Tsarevich peeled his own soaked shirt off and dropped it on the bench with a look of disdain. It faded though as he looked at his friend, standing in the middle of the room in nothing but undergarments. Even those were thoroughly soaked, leaving nothing to imagination - especially one as overactive as Artemis'. The Tsarevich swallowed and licked his lips. "Kozmotis, would you mind coming over here for a moment...?"

The look of innocence was almost heartbreaking. Dear, dear Pitchiner would never learn, would he?

He turned to face his friend, water still rolling down his abdomen and strong thighs. His briefs were soaked through, showing off the shape of his manhood nestled beneath a triangle of dark black hair.

"Are you alright?" Ever obedient, Kozmotis Pitchiner stood before him with his hands moving to Artemis' shoulders.

"Quite alright." Artemis would his arms around the tight waist and pressed his lips against his friend's stomach. His skin tasted of rain and the Tsarevich couldn't help but lick off the drops, his tongue briefly diving into Kozmotis' navel. "You look absolutely ravishing," he whispered. "I greatly envy every single female you decide to shower with your attention." He dropped a few more kisses on the muscled abdomen. "It's been a while you let me spoil you."

The body in his arms arched toward his lips, skin cool and smooth under the kisses. He braced himself when Pitchiner tried to push him away, choosing to torment him with a swipe of his tongue over one protruding hipbone. "You've no reason to be jealous," his comrade whispered hoarsely, "Please think clearly--what if we are caught?"

But his interest was obvious. There was a slight swelling against Artemis' chest, the skin above his briefs blossoming into a dusting of red. "I am spoiled enough by this trip."

"But I'm not." More kisses and gentle nips followed, trailing lower and lower. "Do you know why this lodge is here, Kozmotis? For love affairs. My ancestors brought their mistresses and lovers here, to be away from prying eyes. The servants here keep the secrets. They have kept them for centuries." Artemis pressed his mouth against the developing erection, tasting more rain and an aroma unique to his beloved friend. He slid off the bench to kneel in front of the other, not feeling degraded for a moment. Once or twice he did this before, much to Kozmotis' disapproval; but the Tsarevich perceived the act as generous giving and bold taking both.

"This is our last summer and I want to have enough of you to keep me warm during the lonely years."

"I didn't know--" His protests were cut off by a strangled growl, akin to the sound a wolf makes before springing upon its prey. Kozmotis Pitchiner was always so controlled, so tightly wound, that Artemis took great pride in cutting each string that kept his friend from giving in. Underneath his mouth, the hefty organ swelled further.

It was trapped between his mouth and Pitchiner's thighs, and having nowhere to go, it just began to grow. Soon, the faint aroma of his musk intensified, filling his nose with the intoxicating scent of his masculinity. "Please--not this, Artemis."

Kozmotis lightly tugged his hair, desperation tinging his voice. "Anything but this..! You're the Tsarevich--"

"One who loves to give pleasure to his best friend." Knowing that any sort of reasoning would be in vain, Artemis hooked his fingers around the waistline of the undergarment and yanked the fabric down. His lips were immediately on the heated skin, kissing and licking; then he curled his fingers around the base and opened his mouth to guide the darkened penis deeply into his mouth. The sensation of the smooth head resting against his tongue made him shiver. He craved this, he wanted to let it slide down his throat- Which was not going to happen due to Kozmotis' generous measurements, but Artemis was ready to make do with what he could.

The hands in his hair tightened almost painfully. For one protesting so fervently, Pitchiner wasted no time in rocking forward to help sheathe the rest of his length inside.

Busy as they both were with final exams and ceremonies, Artemis knew that neither had time to take care of certain biological impulses. All concerns that Kozmotis might have a little plaything on the side faded, when the intense taste of his precome finally registered.

"Y-you're above this--" Pitchiner stammered above him, his voice breaking over every word. "Oh gods, it feels so good--please stop, Artemis, please...!"

However, no Lunanoff ever retreated when in a winning position. Artemis began to suck, his tongue massaging the head and shaft forcefully; he had a natural talent for blowjobs. He threw his free arm around Kozmotis' waist and grabbed his buttock to prevent him from fleeing. Those moans and groans, those strained, desperate noises and panting were like music to his ears. To make the proud, stoic Pitchiner lose coherency was a great accomplishment and Artemis never tired in pursuing that goal.

The flesh was warm and supple under his hand. When the teasing intensified, he actually felt Pitchiner's knees buckle from pleasure. He slumped forward and grabbed Artemis by the shoulders to keep from falling. "Please stop th--gods damn your wicked tongue!"

Kozmotis' legs spread so he could have more access, baring his heavy testicles and pushing more of the intimidating cock into his mouth. For all his soft cries, nothing compared to the sight he beheld when he glanced up. Kozmotis Pitchiner was staring right back at him, pupils blown, mouth open; he barely noticed the tender thumb brushing down the corner of his stretched lips.

The Tsarevich changed the angle slightly that he could look back into those green gold eyes, his own darker gaze shining with affection. Without stopping for a moment, he carried on with the licking and sucking, his head bobbing as he tried to fit in as much erect flesh as he just could.

He was also hard underneath his trousers, but he couldn't care at the moment. Pleasuring Kozmotis had priority.

For some time, there was only the slick sound of oral sex to be heard under frenzied breathing. Every now and again, Kozmotis would squeeze his eyes shut and try to block out the sight of his best friend tasting his cock; all it took to bring him back was a soft moan or a squeeze to his rump.

Normally, it took him quite a bit of effort for him to peak, but Pitchiner never lasted long when Artemis' mouth was involved. Whether it was the image or the sensation, he was soon trying to pry his face away from his reddened prick. "Enough, enough..!" He was trembling, leaking with need. "N-not in your mouth."

 

His pleas seemed to fall on deaf ears though. Artemis stared up at him with hungry flames in his eyes and all but doubled his efforts, topping it with a needy moan.

That was all it took for his beloved friend to hunch forward and press his gentle hands into Artemis' skin like vicious claws. His orgasm followed swiftly, jets of semen that shot into the back of his throat. He'd apparently been neglecting himself, for Arty soon found his mouth full of seed and even leaking some out of the corners of his lips.

"Damn you.. Damn you.."

The Lunanoff heir, so regal and haughty at any other time swallowed another's seed like a cheap whore. He took his time to clean the softening penis with long, gentle licks, holding onto his friend's hips and petting him with the greatest affection. Artemis pressed his face into the firm belly, kissing the skin that now tasted faintly of salt. His own erection was throbbing in the confines of his riding pants, but he ignored it. Self-satisfaction could wait. Kozmotis was more important.

 

"Why do you insist on doing this.." Kozmotis gasped from above. Artemis could still feel him shaking under each kiss, skin warm as if with fever.

Slowly, his proud friend knelt to face him. "Please, don't do that again." His arms slid gently around his shoulders, then pulled him close. He was still breathing hard. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Don't tell a future king what he can and cannot do," Artemis murmured. "I like this. I like you. I love you so much, my dearest friend." He wound his arms around the slightly wider shoulders, pressing his face against Kozmotis' neck to breathe in the earthy scent of rain-soaked hair. "How am I going to bear being apart from you...?"

"It's for the good of the kingdom. You must be a ruler, and I must be a soldier." Kozmotis squeezed him, and for a brief moment, he was certain that the lips against his cheek were going to move further inward. It was rare for Pitchiner to initiate a kiss. "Your place in my heart will never be taken by anyone."

He pulled away then, perhaps intended to stand, but his piercing eyes dropped to see Artemis von Lunanoff's very obvious problem. "A-ah.. how shall I..?"

Artemis closed his eye briefly. Oh, he would have loved those thin lips to envelope him, or that perfect rear- The Tsarevich gained much knowledge in the past years on many topics.

But it was not going to happen. His dear friend was the admirer of womanfolk solely; he could be grateful that Kozmotis allowed these brief trysts.

"We should wash anyway," he replied finally. "Help me to the bath, and... you know I've always appreciated your skilled hands."

He might've been uncertain of himself, but Kozmotis Pitchiner was in no way a selfish lover. He didn't accept pleasure without dealing it out in return, though he'd never ventured past using his hand before. He pulled Artemis to his feet, then slid his hips back into his underwear.

The bath was already drawn, steaming in a tub large enough to seat half a dozen full-grown adults quite comfortably. Pitchiner climbed in first, but not because he thought himself more deserving. He held his hands out. "Easy now, Artemis."

"I'm just aroused, not sick," the Tsarevich pointed out, but he was still thankful for the strong supporting hand. He immersed into the fragrant water with a deep, satisfied sigh and leaned against his friend. "This feels good." His erection faded a bit in the meantime, but now his body was once again throbbing in anticipation.

The lad felt good against his side, strong arm around his waist to hold him steady. His other hand rested on the outside of Artemis' arm. "I get clumsy trying to walk around like that," he murmured, laughter tinting his voice. "If you'll slide into my lap, Artemis, I will try to please you, too."

Artemis wordlessly obeyed, snuggling back against Pitchiner's chest and relaxing. His breathing was heavy and his erection almost painfully hard. He tilted his head back, until it rested on a strong shoulder and let out a shaky sigh. "Don't make me beg for it, please. I need it so bad." Every second of waiting was maddening.

"I won't," the soft voice promised, before hot, hot fingers wrapped around his length. The thumb slid back and forth beneath his head, encouraging him to reach the same level of pleasure he'd felt earlier. Lips touched the shell of his ear, soothing, then the movements around him grew brisk and almost agonizingly fierce. "I want you to feel good.."

He never got a coherent answer to that because all Artemis could manage were gasps, soft moans, and his friend's name. The paler limbs tensed up, toes and fingers curling. He knew he was not going to resist the assault for long, but he didn't intend to try. But it felt so good. He wished he could stay like this forever.

"Kozmotis... Oh by the stars, Kozmotis...!"

The lad's breath rushed over his ear, fast and desperate as he continued stroking to bring his dearest friend over the edge. For this moment at least, he could pretend that he was Pitchiner's. They were lovers for this brief moment, wrapped up together like they were every night, with Kozmotis' lips against his, heart beating soundly beneath his ear... "It's alright.. let go.."

There was a deep, shuddering gasp and a bitten off moan, and the water was clouded by white as the Tsarevich reached completion. His back arched slightly, then he slumped back against his beloved friend, suddenly feeling ready to doze off. "Oh gods, I think I died."

"You still feel nice and warm to me," Kozmotis laughed softly, resting his pointed chin against the top of his head. "I hope that was satisfactory, considering what you did for me."

Warmth spread out in Artemis' chest and he turned his head to place a kiss on Kozmotis' jaw. "An excellent performance, my dear friend. Now, let us wash properly. I'm sure the hot cider is still hot."


	5. Chapter 5

She'd insisted, and she was the Tsarina, so who was he to refuse? Of course, the entire idea made him incredibly uncomfortable, but she'd have none of it. The moment he'd stepped in through the palace doors, he was whisked into a world he could never hope to grow accustomed to. She had him fitted for a "proper" uniform faster than he could say "But Tsarina von Lunanoff, please!".

It arrived faster than he expected, too. Within a short time, a package was shoved into his arms and he was guided to his borrowed chambers to try on his new garments. Immediately.

Now was better than any other time, he supposed, as he carefully untied the strings and stepped out of his shoes.

After a few minutes, he stood dressed nicer than he'd ever been before. The navy jacket made his already-broad shoulders look even more imposing, a proud and capable man standing where an awkward teenage boy used to be. The fresh haircut brought maturity to his face that pleased him immensely.

Kozmotis Pitchiner lifted his chin proudly, smoothing down the front of the jacket and turning this way and that to get a nice look at himself.

The pristine white pants contrasted nicely with the jacket and the shoes and gloves completed the look, with silver cords and tassels accenting it. Nobles wore gold, so it spoke of his standing but he couldn't bring himself to mind - the entire uniform was custom tailored just for him and he was sure that there was real silver thread in those tassels and real stones glittering in the buttons.

He looked like a true soldier. A young, strapping officer ready for a lavish summer party at a royal court. The ladies will be swooning over him while he sips champagne...

Kozmotis Pitchiner was looking damn fine tonight.

He turned again to give the lines down his back an intensive once-over. This was tailored perfectly. He never realized how much of a gentleman he was capable of being. He deserved to stand beside someone like Artemis von Lunanoff.

Carefully, he brushed the hair back on his head, unwilling to look away when he heard a knock on the door. "Come in."

"It's good to know you're still alive, Mother just-" Artemis stopped abruptly as his brain caught up with his eyes.

"Is that you...?" he stammered, eyes wide, measuring his friend from top to toe. "By the stars... you look stunning...!" Was that really the commoner he so hated once? Then again, Kozmotis grew quickly, maturing fast from hard work... and age, a tiny voice supplied inside. Arty ignored it. Kozmotis was no Celestial, not like the nobles of the royal Houses, but Artemis refused to acknowledge that. He took a step forward, then another, admiring the handsome young man openly. "Look at you... like a glorious general."

A shy smile spread over his face, pretty white teeth peeking out from between thin lips. There was so little humility in his posture when he turned, shoulders thrown back and chest puffed out, that it made his heart melt just a little. "Do you approve, Artemis?"

Was that a little arrogance in his tone? Pitchiner was certainly filling the role of an up-and-coming general.

"Of course I approve!" Artemis stepped close and brushed some imaginary dust off his friend's shoulders. "Every bit a gentleman and noble soldier! I like the haircut, too." He glanced to the mirror then gestured toward it, smiling. "Just look at that."

Next to the young general, a future king was standing. Artemis had shining raven hair and calm brown eyes, his uniform was entirely white accented with gold. A sash sewn with diamonds stretched across his broad chest; he wasn't scrawny, either.

"The lasses won't know what hit them," said Pitchiner with great pride, sliding an arm around his shoulders to squeeze. His body felt warm and hard, the boys' similar height enough so he had only to tip his head if he wanted to bump their noses together. "With just a little more ballroom dancing practice, we're going to be the envy of your court."

The scent of his cologne was sharp as Pitchiner turned his chin in Artemis' direction. "You look every bit the handsome king."

Artemis couldn't resist. He cupped the other's sharply angled jaw and kissed his thin but soft lips. His heart was aching. Kozmotis was so handsome, and this was their last summer before going on separate ways. Artemis was to continue his studies, marry and become a man worthy of the Tsar's throne, and Kozmotis was going to become First Mate on a starship, then a captain, chasing Fearlings on the edge of the empire, keeping the shadows from entering the Starlit Realms.

He replied with the same professional patience he always did, gently pursing his lips and leaning in with the very tenderness that made him ache.

"Come now.. No need to wrinkle our uniforms," he breathed, mint and wine on his hot breath.

"We can take them off..." the Tsarevich suggested breathlessly. His hands traveled down over the broad chest, around the slender waist and up along the back, gloved fingers digging in slightly. "You break my heart again and again and I can't help but love you even more." Their lips met again, breath mingling, tongues brushing.

"Mmm.." Kozmotis' head tipped forward, and in delight, he felt a promising pressure against his hip. Hot arms wrapped around his shoulders, as Kozmotis pressed close to deepen their sinful little kiss. "I don't intend to harm you, Artemis. You are so very precious to me."

A shuddering breath escaped the Tsarevich and he arched to gain more contact. Every time his friend responded so readily, there was a glimmer of hope that what they had could be kept instead of dissolving in time, distance and affection for another. As a future ruler, Artemis had everything and he wasn't keen on releasing things that grew close to his heart. Especially not something as wonderful as his friend.

His fingers attacked the jacket's buttons, working them free with expertise born of practice. He couldn't deny that the uniform was appealing in itself, and it fueled the fire coursing in his blood.

His dearest friend sank down with a growl, his flesh like fire even under the rich cloth. He felt Kozmotis' hands on his cheeks, the gloves tickling the overheated skin. Artemis tilted his head to the side to catch the tip of one finger between his teeth; then he pulled, making eye contact as he peeled the cloth from that graceful hand.

"Easy.." Kozmotis strained, voice dropping in pitch with lust and need. Artemis felt so very wanted, as he saw those eyes glaze over. "Please don't tear it.."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing." He sounded slightly more confident than he felt. The buttons came undone one by one until the navy overcoat hung loose on the strong frame. Artemis took one step back to admire his handiwork; the shirt still obscured the skin, but his mouth was salivating at the thought of catching a glimpse of that smooth chest and dusky nipples once the silky white fabric was loosened as well. He quickly tugged his own gloves off and began to work on his own buttons, after discarding the sash.

Finally, Kozmotis was stirred to action. He rolled his shoulders forward to slide the jacket off and lay it back on the bed. "Don't just throw that--"

Artemis glanced up as he tossed his sash to the ground. "--on the floor."

He saw a bit of nervousness at the corners of his mouth. There seemed to be some hesitation, the long fingers lingering over the white undershirt. Rumpled and randy, he looked absolutely decadent with a bit of nerves added to the mix. "Just what are you intending to do?"

"Giving you an orgasm sounds quite like a plan," Artemis smiled innocently and for a change, he laid his own jacket next to Pitchiner's. "Admit it, you were admiring yourself, so don't be surprised that I admire you as well." He moved closer and brushed a hand against the front of his friend's pants.

"We have plenty of time and afterwards, your eyes will be brighter and you'll last longer for the ladies."

Eyelashes fluttered as Artemis scooted closer, his lips sliding apart to accommodate another slight kiss. He began unfastening the buttons that separated them, baring his chiseled form with gusto. Underneath, his body quivered, naught but hard muscle that pleaded silently to be touched. "I wasn't--I was just... making sure it fit.."

Slowly, Kozmotis sank to his back and drew Artemis with. He was actually being a little forward, assisting the prince with untucking his shirt, then sliding his hands under to rest on his back.

"I thought you wanted to keep the clothes in an acceptable condition...?" Artemis teased but didn't move away, instead dipped his head to cover the exposed, bronze skin with kisses and nips. He swirled his tongue around an erect nipple. He also rolled his hips lazily, gasping at the sensation of their hard flesh brushing. These were dress uniforms, made for summer and thus, the pants were more on the thin side.

Kozmotis hissed beneath him, that nipple perking deliciously against his tongue. With such a sensitive body, it was almost a shame he wasn't a girl. "I'm trying," his friend whined, "But you refuse to yield to reason long enough for me to properly undr--"

Artemis was witness to a beautiful sight: Pitchiner gritted his teeth together, a flush creeping up his neck, and with a grunt, he threw his head back into the pillow. His manhood was undeniable now, throbbing against the front of his slacks. "Please, Artemis, at least let me remove my pants, please sir.."

"When you beg like that, I'm seriously tempted to deny your wishes..." Artemis murmured, but he climbed off his friend and continued undressing himself with haste. He wanted to feel that heated skin against his own, have that handsome erection pressing against his flesh, those lips crushing against his, those nails raking down his back- His own arousal was quite visible by now, too.

"His majesty is merciful," was the simple, teasing reply. Kozmotis might've been desperate for them to continue, but the expression on his face held none of that need once he was undressed. Resting on his elbows, his bare body lounging atop the mattress, he looked rumpled and wild, with a self-satisfied smirk that brought a hint of danger to the eyes. "I merely wanted a moment to ensure I didn't get my new uniform dirty."

He was flushed, tense, his sizeable manhood at the ready against his parted thighs.

The Tsarevich could barely keep himself from purring as he slid on top of his friend, shuddering from the nice sensations. He kissed Kozmotis deeply, tongue stabbing into his mouth slowly but firmly. His hips moved on their own accord, rolling lazily.

He was finally given what he needed, with hard, silken skin against his own. Their kissing was slow and penetrating, Kozmotis tongue sliding across his teeth, against the roof of his mouth, then out, before finally thrusting inside again. Hot hands rested on his waist and held him close; why, Pitchiner even thrusted up against him every so often.

The head of his thick cock left a strand of precome against Artemis' balls, as it nudged his perineum after a misjudged movement.

The Tsarevich gasped and fixed his teeth on the dark shoulder. "D-do that again," he commanded though he couldn't manage to condense any real authority into it.

A few times before, they have done something similar; once he managed to win Kozmotis over to spend the night in his room and by far, it was one of the most delightful trysts they had. But now, he craved something more. He was just a little reluctant to request it. Kozmotis would surely need some convincing...

He was given about half of what he asked for, a teasing prod of that thick member against the backside of his scrotum. Hands were on his ass, though, which was a good sign. Kozmotis seemed fascinated with it, squeezing each cheek under one hand and then spreading them apart.

Again, he was prodded. It slipped back behind, sliding over that untouched patch of skin. "Hnnn.. Sorry.."

"It's alright..." Artemis breathed. He stole a passionate kiss and rolled his hips a few times firmly, to chase his friend into a lusty haze that'll cover his mind, making him more pliable.

"You always make me feel so good..."

It must've been working well, for he felt that member tremble against his backside, so dripping wet and hard. The kisses he received were just as decadent, plunging into his mouth with promise. If he wasn't careful, he'd wind up being owned by this man, this little commoner with piercing eyes and a wicked tongue.

Down, down, his hands went. Artemis felt them on the backs of his thighs, felt them pull his legs apart so he could straddle Pitchiner's waist.

He couldn't wait any longer. Stars and suns, he couldn't. Artemis pushed himself up on his elbows, licked at his friend's lips and looked into those gorgeous green gold eyes.

"Kozmotis... My dearest friend. I want you-" he had to swallow. His voice was veiled, thick with lust and strained with need. "I want you to take me."

Beneath him, Kozmotis was gasping softly, eyes darting about as if they were unable to focus on anything. His friend, his dearest love, was so far gone that he'd agree to anything.

At least, until his ever-suffering brain caught up to the rest of him. He saw reason in his gaze, which gradually turned to confusion. Pitchiner shifted, pulling away from where he'd been so close to penetrating. "What?" His brows furrowed. "You want me to.. Artemis, -what-?"

"I want you to take me," the Tsarevich repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you- inside me. I wouldn't let this to anyone but you... My beloved friend. My Kozmotis. Please." His heart was drumming so furiously inside his chest. What would it feel like...? No doubt it'll hurt, but a soldier can take the pain. He was feeling a bit lightheaded.

The silence was punctuated only by their breaths, which still came fast despite their momentary lull in activity. That meant Kozmotis was thinking things over, which was never a good sign when it came to impulsive love-making.

He actually flinched when a hand slid up onto his cheek. The thumb brushed over the wing of his nose in a soothing gesture that did anything but. "Artemis.. My friend, I cannot do that to you." His free hand cupped his face then, forcing the Tsarevich to look Pitchiner in the eye. There was nothing but a sympathetic smile. "You are the best friend I've ever had, and I'd die for you, but I will not degrade you."

Short nails dug into his skin briefly. "You always say that, and I know that you mean it, but I don't- It's only degrading if you feel it is, and I certainly don't! Every time you're in my mouth, I feel proud to give you pleasure. And this- You deserve it." His hand shook a little as he raked his fingers through the other's dark hair. The sense of defeat tasted bitter on the back of his tongue and Artemis swallowed to clear it away.

"I want to know how it feels like. I want to know how it feels like _with you_. That's how much I love you."

"It's degrading to even take another man in your mouth," he clarified. All at once, their wild encounter was halted, and it left him frustrated. Kozmotis shifted under him, starting to soften. "It isn't right for one man to take another. While you may find it agreeable, I would not be able to think of it as anything but a sin to inflict upon you."

The hands slid to rest on the backs of his wrists, and gently, he pulled them out of his hair. "I love you as a brother, Artemis."

"Do I have to order you?!" The calm brown eyes flickered like a blade and gritted, pearly teeth bared in a sneer.

That smile faltered, Kozmotis sinking back a bit. "I will do as you order me to. You know that."

Still, his tender hand never stopped. It rubbed back and forth over his forearm, soft, undemanding. "At your word, I would do anything. But I know you, Artemis, and I know that your heart is too good for you to demand an empty act." He slid his hips back slowly. "You know as well as I do that what we have is at an end. We will be men soon, with wives and children; there can be no future for us if we take a step such as this."

This was how a stab into the heart might have felt.

The breath caught in Artemis' throat and he winced. Those green-gold eyes shone like stars, honest, loving and sorrowful. He couldn't bear looking into them anymore. His vision was blurring anyway. He climbed off his friend, suddenly repulsed by feeling naked skin on naked skin. Artemis staggered away, just a few steps, and covered his mouth in an attempt to keep everything inside; the rage, the pain, the misery swirling in him made his stomach turn and he wanted to scream. His nails dug into his palm so deeply, they were almost drawing blood.

That cursed bastard, that spawn of shadows, that ignorant monster! He was-

He was right. Like always.

He stood in his misery, barely recognizing the sound of shifting cloth and creaking mattress. It was all too much, to have been so close only to have all his hope dashed from beneath his feet.

Pitchiner's hand burned like hellfire on his shoulder. "You will be the greatest Tsar we have ever known. I am so fortunate to call you my friend--nothing will ever change that."

He heard the softness in his voice, but it grated like raw skin in broken glass. "You mean the world to me, Artemis. Please find it within your heart to forgive me."

The Tsarevich sucked in a shaky breath. He lowered his head and slowly turned to sneak pale arms around the bronze waist. He pressed his face into the crook of Kozmotis' shoulder and tightened the embrace.

"I will love you forever, Kozmotis. Promise me that you'll return to see me, and be there for me when I need you the most."

He barely registered that a robe separated them now, as Kozmotis circled his arms 'round his prince and squeezed him in a tight embrace. "You only have to say the word, and I will come running."

His cheek touched the top of Artemis' head. "After I reach the front lines, I swear to write you any chance I get. You must tell me everything."

The Tsarevich sniffled and graced his friend with a small smile. "So be it. I'll bribe all the star pilots if I need, but they'll find you, no matter where you'll be. After all... You're an honorary Lunanoff."

He laughed briefly, then gestured toward their uniforms. "We should dress and check on the party. I think it's about to begin, and I've heard that some certain Aquila ladies will be attending."

"Let us hope they notice me standing next to you," Pitchiner replied with a laugh, clapping his friend on the back.


	6. Chapter 6

It was just past dawn when his hero stirred.

At first he was certain it was just another involuntary motion, of fingers twitching or lips pursing as the body fought off infection. Then, he did something he hadn't done in all the time Arty had watched over him:

Kozmotis Pitchiner opened his eyes.

Their color was glazed with pain. The gold and green looked so helpless, so fragile, that it would have broken his heart had he not been so overjoyed. For his name was on his friend's lips, and it was as perfect as he'd hoped. "..Artemis?" the dry, hoarse voice strained, as if the tongue was too heavy, lips too numb, "Is it really you..?"

The Tsarevich - very nearly the Tsar himself by now, with the preparations for his initiation well underway - gasped and he seized his friend's hand which wasn't weighed down by needles sinking into veins. He covered the pale skin with kisses, his heart almost bursting from emotion. "Yes, yes my beloved friend, it is me- Bless the stars and suns! I almost lost you!"

With a trembling hand and afraid to do harm, he caressed Kozmotis' hair. "I'll call the doctors immediately- How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"

When he received word about his friend's injury, panic choked him. Kozmotis was wounded on his stomach, a nasty stab, but that wasn't causing the most trouble. They discovered a dark spot on his back, shaped like a palm; it was obviously a Fearling machination. Possession only happened to the weak and weary and Kozmotis was neither, but they suspected the physical pain might have worn his defenses down. He was shipped to the Lunanoff homeworld with haste and the necessary interventions progressed with speed, but the doctors told Artemis to keep his hopes in check; if the infection was too widespread, not even the ancient relics' light could neutralize it without destroying the host.

He felt the fingers in his tighten, but with nowhere near the same strength he was used to. The very gesture seemed to drain what little power he had left, leaving his hand limp and cold in Arty's. His eyes drifted closed again.

"No worse than the food poisoning two springs before graduation." Even speaking was a chore. His words came slowly, weakly, only managing two or three before he had to pause for breath. "With something like frostbite on the spine."

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, then the eyes opened again; his lips curled into a weak smile. "You've been worrying yourself."

"Of course I did...!" A teardrop rolled down on Artemis' cheek. "You were badly injured. You even had a Fearling mark on you!" He kissed the limp hand again, quick to reassure his friend. "But I'm sure you're over the worst. You're in the capital hospital, and when the nature of your injury was confirmed, they immediately requested for a Relic. The mark is still there..." He hesitated for a moment then reminded himself that this was his friend, and a soldier who was basically fighting a war. "It'll probably stay. But the mere fact that you woke up suggests that you've fought the possession off."

The information was apparently as exhausting as movement, for Pitchiner laid his head back and squeezed his eyes shut after this exclamation. "That would certainly explain much."

He lifted his other hand, the graceful fingers so grotesque with implements of healing penetrating the skin, and touched the backs of Arty's knuckles. "Will I be able to return to the front lines?"

"As soon as you fully recover," the Tsarevich nodded with a bright smile. He knew very well that a lasting health effect would break his friend's heart. "Nothing was irreparably broken or injured. You'll be as fit as before. So make sure you're not wasting your strength. As soon as it can be done, you'll be transferred to the palace."

"The palace?" He shook his head slowly. "I couldn't impose, and my place is here."

His hand slid back down, laying prone across his chest. He wasn't willing to touch his abdomen, it appeared. "I've bothered you enough."

"Nonsense! You're my friend, and don't think I haven't heard of your battle with that captain. You're risking your life for my kingdom every day and besides, you haven't even met my fiancé. Once the doctors say you don't need further treatment, only rest, you'll get a nice sunny room in the eastern wing. What would you do in a hospital anyway, you'd get frustrated and you'd try to escape."

"You know me too well, my friend." Pitchiner looked relieved, despite his words to the contrary. "I would be honored to spend some time with you again."

Eyelashes fluttering, he saw some of Kozmotis' awareness start to fade. "My congratulations.." He had to stop every other word now, voice dropping sluggishly. "..to you.. and your bride.."

"Spare your strength," Artemis caressed the dark hair gently. It was in need of a proper cut again. "I'll call the doctors. It's so good to have you back." He rose and quietly hurried out for some professional care.

\------------------------------------

Those three weeks were the longest.

His flesh needed to mend, and Kozmotis knew he was being monitored for erratic behavior that could have indicated possession. He did his best to keep calm, but it wasn't always easy. Rest was never a concept to consider. 

Finally though, he was released from the hospital with strict orders to not exhaust or overstrain himself, unless he wanted his injuries to get worse. Thus, he was to enjoy the Lunanoff hospitality and all the luxuries the grandiose Palace offered - a spacious, sunny room, a soft pillow, food prepared just for him, and last but not least, the adoration of Artemis and his betrothed.

Not that he minded much; Artemis openly doted on his old friend and the Tsarevna was a lovely, smart and well-mannered young woman. Quite a few times, they rode out on a comfortable flying gondola to the city or the estate's quiet parts for a picnic. Kozmotis enjoyed that, but he was impatient to finally be able to ride again. 

Today was slow though. He passed the time with reading and a game of chess with an older servant he befriended with and after lunch, Artemis invited him for a walk in the gardens. The sun shone warmly, the scent of the exquisite flowers lingered in the air delicately. When they passed a peach tree already bearing ripe fruit, Artemis took one and handed it to his friend.

"Thank you," he said gently, tossing the peach up and catching it in his palm. "When I am fully recovered, I will climb to the top of the tree and fetch you the nicest peach in the kingdom."

"When you're fully recovered," Artemis replied with a gentle smile," We'll be riding down to the hunting lodge to swim in the lake. We'll spar, and don't forget dancing on my wedding. I'll be expecting you on my initiation as well, so do recover quickly." He hugged Kozmotis and kissed his cheek that was regaining the same healthy color from before. "You promised to stand by my side and forgive me, I know it is a terrible thing to say, but I'm almost glad for that injury... It brought you back to me."

"I would be at your coronation even if I had to be strapped to a wagon and wheeled to the palace gates." He slid an arm around his friend's shoulders, fingers stretching out to tickle his collarbone."And I would hold nothing against you, since it has been you who have cared for me so intensely, even though my odds were not the best."

He held the peach to his lips, then sank his teeth into the skin. It was perfectly ripe, warmed by the summer sun and juicy enough that a bit even leaked from the corner of his mouth. "I am proud of you, my friend. Your bride is lovely."

"That she is," Artemis nodded, though a little absent-mindedly; he was mesmerized for a moment by the glittering drop of peach juice on Kozmotis' lips. "She is of a high standing, she's intelligent, beautiful, enterprising... She'll make a fine Tsarina as well a wonderful wife. I admit, I was afraid to get stuck with something much worse. Ladies of the court have their flaws, but she's pretty much perfect. She already promised to bear me a strong son." He couldn't help but blush a little despite himself. Artemis was honestly smitten by his bride and the new love's whirlwind made his emotions hard to control. He was getting crowned, getting married - the excitement was getting to him at times. "I'm so happy, Kozmotis. With her and you by my side, I feel like there's nothing I couldn't do."

"You will make a fine husband and father." Thoughtfully, he rubbed the juice from his lip. "We will see many years of peace under your rule. I am glad to call myself your friend."

With a soft smile, he held out the other half of the peach for the Tsarevich. "I know in my heart that your first child will be a prince, just as you deserve."

"Thank you." Artemis took the fruit and bit into the fragrant flesh." Mm, this year will be kind to the fruits. The peaches taste lovely." He licked his lips and added. "Though they're far from the best."

"You think so? I find them to be absolutely delicious." He squinted, eyes focusing on some movement near the palace. The Tsarevna and her ladies-in-waiting were out for a stroll, it seemed, and the flicker of dark hair, sun-kissed skin, and full skirts caught his attention. "What would make them better?"

"Oh, they're good enough as they are. Sweet and succulent, a true delicacy. I meant to say that there are some better treats in this garden than the peaches."

"I'll say." He held his hand over his brow, tipping his chin up for a better look. The lass was younger than the others, but carried herself with all the grace of a blue blood. Her dress wasn't as brightly-colored, nor as revealing, but to him, she stood out like a rose in a bramble bush. "There are so many treasures I wish to lay my hands upon."

"No need to restrain yourself," Artemis almost purred as he leaned closer, full of anticipation; but he finally realized that his friend's attention wasn't on him. He pulled back a little offended and turned his head to see what captured Kozmotis' eyes. "Oh, the ladies-in-waiting." He gave his friend a sly look. "Now, now, my dear friend. No exhausting yourself with delightful acrobatics."

Kozmotis didn't seem to notice. His face was relaxed in a hypnotized smile, fingers curling inward just slightly as he leaned in. "Just allow a man to look. I know I haven't a chance." When he lowered his hand, that grin was dampened by a bit of disappointment.

Artemis clasped his hands. "For the love of the stars, Kozmotis, my dear friend, my brother in all but blood... You're not just a Lieutenant's son anymore, you have rank! And you are the friend of the Tsarevich, who is going to be Tsar by the end of the month. You seem to have forgotten the good old days." He huffed and slid an arm around his friend's shoulders.

"Which is the fortunate one getting all your attention? I'll tell you how much a chance you have."

His laughter rang out as beautifully as the sunshine shining above them. He saw a bit of red creeping onto his fair face, a sparkle in his eye that Artemis had never seen before, loath as he was to admit it. "I do not like to take advantage of our relationship." Pitchiner tilted his head, close enough that they almost touched.

His lips parted but he did not speak. Kozmotis seemed hesitant to say a word. When Artemis dared a glance to the group, he met the scowl of a beautiful young lady seated near the koi pond. Her fine hands were folded in her lap, resting atop her skirts, delicate brow drawn into a deep crease.

"Your worries were misplaced anyway," the Tsarevich commented. "If she's the one... She's one of my fiancé's servants, her personal maid. Her father is a butler... He ranks quite high among other servants, though. She's lovely, very educated. And, well, she does have some Lunanoff blood, so- Can't blame you for sticking to quality."

"I noticed you didn't mention my chances," he remarked, as the lovely thing tilted her chin up and deliberately broke eye contact with a graceful turn of her head. Beside him, Kozmotis Pitchiner sighed as if his heart was broken.

"She doesn’t even have a rank," Artemis rolled his eyes. "And judging by that disdainful look that would put duchesses to shame, she is convinced that you are some high and mighty noble. Or maybe she's just repulsed by your looks, but then she's obviously blind. I'd say, if you can carry on a conversation with her, you are set to gain her goodwill." While he never had a single complaint against his friend pining for women - Kozmotis could only love them, after all - for some reason, Artemis' heart was now aching faintly. He tried to ignore it.

He felt his friend's grip tighten around his shoulder. "What a good friend you are to encourage me so. I would be fortunate to even earn a hello from this lass!"

Kozmotis pressed a kiss to his temple, then laughed. "I will have flowers sent to her and perhaps she will grace me with her hand."

"We'll have to see that," the Tsarevich nodded. "However, unless you absolutely need to gaze longingly at her, it's time to go back. You should take a nap. Rest speeds up the recovery, and you'll need the strength and stamina.”

\-------------------------------------

"Could she have given me a dirtier look?" Kozmotis laid flat on his back, laughing as Artemis came in after him. "You'd have thought I'd asked to see her knickers, not asked her for a stroll!"

On Artemis' playful insistence, they'd gone to greet the Tsarina and her ladies-in-waiting. So ironic that Kozmotis would desire the one woman who wasn't taken with his dashing looks! Artemis knew that feeling all too well. "What I would give for just a kiss," Pitchiner sighed, "Anything to help me sleep easier."

"I still think she suspects you to be another nobleman after her knickers." Artemis flopped down on the bed, right next to his friend. "You could just tell her you're a mere soldier, being a burden on His Majesty's shoulders." He snickered. “Those who resist the hardest fall the fastest. But I don't think I have to give you advice on handling ladies. You used to be quite a charmer back at the Academy."

"I had more trouble than you realize. Being no more than street trash, I had to work harder to even get the lasses to admire my heroic physique." His lips tugged into a smile that made Artemis' chest ache, the light and softness in his eyes more heartbreaking than the bastard would ever know. He sighed dreamily as his mind drifted off for a moment, back to their younger days. It didn't last long though; Artemis turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow and his dark eyes gleamed seriously. "Are you having troubles with sleeping?"

Kozmotis’ hands slid up to rest on his chest, long fingers linking. "It's just biological, I suppose. I haven't been able to--" his cheeks colored when he trailed off. "--well. Certain things have been difficult to do in my condition, so I have a bit more tension than I am accustomed to."

"Aah, I see. A trouble indeed," Artemis sympathized, trying not to show how his pulse spiked as the opportunity that just presented itself. "Yess, I suppose the injured abdominal muscles were protesting. Not to mention the hospital cleaning staff." He leaned closer, placing his hand on his friend's upper arm and squeezing lightly.

"It breaks my heart that I can't summon adequate help to remedy that. But I'm deeply concerned. Lack of sleep and tension do not promote healing and that is what you have to do. "

His cheeks went even darker, and if Artemis didn't know any better, he'd say that his dear Pitchiner pushed his thighs together. "It's driving me crazy," he muttered, "I can't do anything about it without the pain ruining the whole experience."

"When have you last tried?" The Tsarevich slipped his hand to Kozmotis' stomach, gently caressing it. "Perhaps there is something in my might that I could do for a friend in need." He kissed a flushed cheek. "I wouldn't be a good host if I didn't try to supply everything what's needed to my guest's speedy recovery..."

"A few days.." His breath hitched. Under Artemis' hand, Kozmotis’ stomach jumped and his skin grew hot.

Artemis caught the suspicious look and smiled innocently. "I'll not take advantage of your hospitality, Tsar Lunanoff."

"Oh, but I insist." The whisper was hot against his ear and the lazily circling hand busied itself with the shirt's fastenings.

"I kept all your letters," Artemis went on. "I reread them whenever I was upset and you managed to calm my temper even from afar, just with your written words. I missed you greatly and now that I have you... I want even more. I've almost lost you. I want to know if you're truly alive, truly well, untainted by shadows, radiant, warm, loving... my dear friend whom I could trust with my life.."

He leaned over Kozmotis and gently brushed his lips with his own. "I love you so much."

The lips under his parted, then were dampened by a sweep of the tongue. Under Arty's hand, powerful muscles heaved and trembled. Kozmotis Pitchiner was very much alive and mostly well, but Artemis wanted more. "Please.. You know this is wrong. I can't take this from you." Kozmotis murmured, his voice shaking.

His body reacted differently. Artemis could feel him swelling in interest, just a faint twitch beneath his breeches.

"You keep saying that." The kiss was real this time, tongues brushing as well as lips. The sweet peach taste still lingered. "You know that I'd do anything for you. You know that I'd be more than happy to help. You need this, and I want this and please, just for once, stop protesting and be selfish." Artemis couldn't help but smile as he said that.

The soft fabric of the shirt was parted and the young Tsar began to kiss his way down on his friend's chest. He could still recall all the sensitive spots and took special care to revisit them one by one. His free hand was kneading the hips slowly, sliding over the strong things.

It seemed to do the trick, for the moment he kissed the patch of skin just above his heart, Pitchiner fell to putty in his hands. His head tipped back, but it was of no use, for Artemis was able to see the desperate movements of his mouth as he finally, -finally- gave himself over to desire.

Artemis remembered how much his friend enjoyed attention to his thighs. Just a gentle stroke sent Kozmotis into a little fit, where he actually arched up without thinking. He sympathized with the hiss of pain, as the movement disturbed the gash still healing across his abdomen. "Ah.." Then came his hands, his warm, gentle hands, and they slipped across Artemis' cheek. "Apologies."

"For being in pain?" Artemis kissed the injury, then undid the pants and parted the front. He slipped his hand inside and shivered as he mapped out the hard flesh with his fingers.

"Every bit of you is majestic..." He paused to think. "If you roll on your stomach, I can get the trousers out of the way. I know you are rather adamant about dirtying your garments."

"You embarrass me when you fuss like this." But, Pitchiner obeyed. He sat up on his elbows first, then turned onto his hip, then onto his stomach. He eased himself down with maddening slowness, but despite his impatience, Artemis knew not to rush for fear of causing further pain to that tender area.

When finally he'd repositioned himself, Artemis divested him of his boots and trousers. He was rewarded with the sight of beautiful skin, golden and healthy as it stretched up his long legs and covered sleek muscle. His ass was strong and touchable, and where he laid with his legs slightly spread, Artemis could see the heavy shape of his testicles and engorged penis.

He couldn't resist the temptation. Leaning closer, he squeezed a firm cheek, dropping a kiss on the small of the strong back; then he cupped the balls and carefully rolled them in his palm.

"It's only the truth," he said. "If the ladies could see through your clothes, they won't hesitate about taking walks with you. I bet they'd lead you to the more deserted parts." He snickered like a schoolboy.

He could see the backs of Kozmotis' ears flush a brilliant red. To his delight, he received a gentle moan with the touch to his testicles, too. Artemis still had it after all.

"Hnn.. Perhaps his Majesty would speak on my behalf." The attention was obviously what Kozmotis needed. Even with just the lazy, unobtrusive kisses, the great General was relaxing quite splendidly.

Artemis entertained himself with a few more kisses, then brushed the shirt up-

He stopped to stare at the completely black mark. It looked like a woman's handprint in ink black - small and delicate, but even the sight of it dredged up a slight unease. Hesitantly, Artemis touched it. The surface was smooth as glass and cool, but the very same quality as skin.

It infuriated him, his friend's beauty marred by something like this, an evil shadowy stain. He placed a kiss between the shoulderblades, as if trying to compensate for the suffering it caused.

His beloved friend groaned low in the pillows, his arms flexing upward so he could hug them tight. At least there was some sort of sensitivity left, so no small piece of him was forever lost.

"Do you find it revolting?" When Artemis glanced up, he found Pitchiner's handsome face tilted, his glittering eyes peering back over his shoulder.

"I find it infuriating," Artemis corrected. "I want every single Fearling to pay for it, along with those other filthy creatures of their ilk!" He took a shaking breath to calm himself. He caressed the mark with the back of his fingers.

"It's proof that you can't be broken. You survived, you resisted. You've won another fight to continue so until this empire is safe from that dark threat. I'm so proud of you, and also proud to be your friend." He leaned down and forced himself to kiss the mark. It left his lips tingling.

"Now turn back. I can't access the problem like this."

He obeyed without too much fuss, though he shuddered under each touch like he was a virgin. Both men knew better. But he was so responsive, Artemis wished for slightly different circumstances, where he could properly take advantage of his body.

"You know I belong to this kingdom. No Fearling is ever going to change that." Kozmotis laid on his back again, hands resting near his head. His eyes were dark with lust, filling Artemis with pride. -He- had done this. "I belong to the Lunanoffs."

Artemis' heart shuddered from joy between his ribs. The sight didn't leave him unaffected, either; but he ignored his own need. He ran his hand down over his friend's body, from collarbone to the thighs, then back, to finally curl his fingers around the strong neck. "You are mine," he breathed softly, his eyes even darker with power and desire; and crushed his lips against Kozmotis' in a fervent kiss.

While their tongues battled, Artemis finally took matters into his hand, tugging lightly; he knew his friend was deprived and won't last too long, but at the same time, he wanted to drag it out as long as possible, to marvel at that handsome face twist in pleasure.

Just as he predicted, the body under his twitched like it had just been zapped with lightning. The mouth against his widened, and in delight, he swallowed Pitchiner's startled moans.

"Artemis...!" The General keened, his deep voice cracking in pleasure and likely a bit of pain as he jerked his hips up to fuck Arty's hand. His fingers twisted in the sheets at his sides. His proud brow knitted tight and he bit his lips, perhaps trying to keep quiet. "I can't.. hold out if you.."

"Would you like to hold out...?" Artemis teased. "I could do this all day... You're so handsome when you writhe from pleasure." He kissed the faint lines on Pitchiner's face etched by hardships and endless battles. The passing years changed them differently - Artemis, as a Celestial, was barely old enough to marry, while Kozmotis was already a mature man, a hardened soldier. Still the young Lunanoff was as attracted to him as he was back in the academy days.

The breath against his cheek came hard and fast. Kozmotis was teetering on the edge. "I n-never want to disappoint--!!"

Then he broke. It started from his heels up, his entirely body going rigid as he reached his peak. In Artemis' hand, his cock trembled; a line of semen shot straight up to dirty his chest, followed by more thick, white strands that just made his sweat-slick skin all the more beautiful. Pitchiner clutched Arty's wrists, as if he'd die if he didn't have something to hold onto.

Artemis let him, pressing a few kisses against the slightly sweaty brow, waiting patiently for his friend to get back his bearings. His own erection strained against the fabric of his pants, aching faintly, and he couldn't stop himself from wiggling a bit, rubbing lightly against Kozmotis' hips.

"Are you alright? I haven't hurt you, have I?" While the wound was in no danger to reopen, the exercise still could have put too much strain on the tender tissue.

His friend looked lost, eyes glazed under barely-parted lids; his chest heaved, too, as the muscles dropped him down from orgasmic bliss. "I.. don't think so.."

It was rare to see him this way, completely open and vulnerable, so unashamed of his nudity, his loss of control. Part of Artemis was envious that he'd have to share Kozmotis someday.

"..Artemis, I don't understand why you do these things." He said this breathlessly, a laugh through his teeth as he rested a warm hand on the Tsar's lower belly and began to stroke.

"Beca-aah-" His breath hitched and his body tensed; then Artemis kneeled up hastily and opened his own pants. "Don't question your ruler," he exclaimed breathlessly, the order topped with a grunt as his penis was finally free from the confines of clothes.

"You needed it... And now I need it, too." He threw a leg over his friend's thighs, straddling his hips and began to jerk off, watching Kozmotis with half-lidded eyes.

"Never, my liege." A teasing smile softened his features, but gradually, that cockiness gave way to yet another pink blush. It wasn't that the men were unfamiliar with this sort of depravity, but Artemis had the slight suspicion that this sudden coyness was brought on by the fact they'd rarely done such sinning in broad daylight.

Pitchiner looked away, but that was alright. The shamed way he placed his hands over his soiled chest and bit his lip gave Artemis just the sort of expression he so adored.

He was panting softly, his hand moving with uncharacteristic speed and roughness - he wanted that orgasm badly. In a couple dozen seconds, he was tensing up again, teeth sinking into his lower lip and eyes widening, brightly lit with pleasure's flames.

"K-Kozmotis... Hnng-!" A sharp gasp and Artemis came, his seed splashing on the already stained stomach of Pitchiner. His mouth hung open, trying to catch enough air, but his eyes only drifted shut as the pleasure ebbed away and he leaned back, supporting himself with trembling arms. "Oh by the suns and stars..."

When he came back down, it was to the soothing touch of long fingers over his thighs and stomach. Kozmotis was saying something ridiculous ("it's alright, I'm here"), with that soft expression in his eyes that twisted like a knife in Artemis' gut.

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course... Why wouldn't I be...?" He climbed off Kozmotis and carefully tucked himself back into his pants. "I guess you'd like a bath now... I made you even more messy." He pulled an immaculate white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the cooling semen off the abused stomach.

He might've flinched when the cloth slid over his abdomen, but with all his shuddering, Artemis couldn't be sure. Though he protested and fought this entire time, Kozmotis looked beautiful relaxed now. Gone were the lines in his forehead, the painful tenseness of his shoulders; he just laid like he would with a lover, completely open, touchable. "I suppose you are right."

The vision was ruined when Kozmotis sat up on his elbows. "Would you think less of me if I didn't walk you back to your room? My legs probably won't cooperate after all you've done to me."

"Of course not," Artemis smiled affectionately. "You should rest, anyway. Hopefully, good sleep will come to you now." He felt warm; he accomplished a rare task today. That, and his own orgasm left him pleasantly tingling and just a little drowsy. Perhaps a nap was in order.

Those golden eyes fluttered shut. It seemed that the ever-respectable Kozmotis Pitchiner was planning to sleep in naught but a tired smile! "Of that I've no doubt."

Lazily, he hauled a pillow under his head. The last rays of the day's light filtered in through lavish curtains, painting his golden skin in halos of yellow and red. Artemis' essence still marked him, just over his heart, where he wished he would always belong.


	7. Chapter 7

The message was urgent. It arrived just after breakfast, a servant relaying the request with wide eyes and a shy smile. Kozmotis Pitchiner wished to see his dear friend as soon as possible.

It was out of the blue, really. The two men had spent a great deal of time together as Kozmotis recovered from his near-fatal wound. Over just a few weeks, he changed from a soldier on death's door to a proud-shouldered, powerful general once again. He and Artemis used their mornings to run or ride, filling their days with all the antics of the teenage boys they used to be--but the nights became different.

Kozmotis stopped visiting for supper. Artemis would send for him, only to receive the reply that Pitchiner was nowhere to be found. He was concerned the first few times, until he became accustomed to nocturnal disappearances followed by late mornings.

He made his way to the second floor study on quick strides, glancing around for his dearest friend among the shelves and statues.

"Artemis." Golden-green eyes shining, the General stepped from where he'd been seated on a chaise lounge. "I'm so happy you've come."

An odd smile was pinned to his face, barely holding back the excitement that caused his hands to shake.

"I’d always come when you call," the young Tsar smiled even though deep in his stomach, he could feel a strange stirring. “You seem excited- what happened?" He gently squeezed his friend’s shoulders then ran his hands along the strong arms to finally take the trembling hands. “It must be something of great importance."

Kozmotis swayed on his feet, so much so that Artemis was afraid he'd faint away like a feverish lass. His hands were warm, mildly sweaty--in all the time he'd known him, he could never recall Kozmotis Pitchiner being this excited (or nervous) about anything.  
Artemis could, however, recall one time before in which his heart broke so harshly that he experienced pain beyond pain. It was like an assassination, sweet words honed into a fine, slim blade that knifed between his ribs and pierced the most secret place inside of him. And what was worse, was that he nearly wilted in grief while looking into the happiest smile he'd ever seen on Kozmotis Pitchiner's face, hearing his five-word death sentence:

"I am to be wed."

"W-what, really...?" The Tsar managed to look surprised even though he wanted to collapse. "But who-" He already knew the answer. "The baroness... So that's why you were so absent." He should have expected that! The whore! She apparently seduced poor innocent Pitchiner, after all, it was like, two weeks ago that they met? He should have known, he should have ordered that slut eliminated the moment she laid her eyes on Kozmotis... His precious Kozmotis!

He wanted to scream. He wanted to grab the broad shoulders and shout and sob 'You can't leave me! You promised to be by my side, I don't want to lose you!'

He didn't. He might have won a few battles, had his victories, but the war was lost from the start.

The rose tinting his cheeks was meant for Artemis alone to see. The same went for that demure smile, the glistening pride in his eyes, the upward inflection of his voice--but it had all been stolen. "I apologize for not sharing this with you sooner, but I have been swept away by her, as it were." He rested a hand near his heart, where Artemis wanted so badly to be. "We danced together at your mother's gala, and afterward, we spoke until the sun came up!"

With a sigh, Kozmotis gripped his forearms tight. "She is all I could have ever dreamed of, Artemis! Her wit, her mind, her voice, her touch--her kisses are beyond any I've ever tasted. And she wishes to be mine. She loves me as I love her."

The ice was spreading out from Artemis' stomach, toward his heart. The part of him that was the cool-headed ruler merely nodded, taking defeat gracefully; this was bound to happen sooner or later. Artemis fell for his Tsarina even though he had Kozmotis in his heart; Pitchiner wasn't even in love. The baroness was a perfect bride for a high-ranked soldier with a neat dowry; and she was probably just as taken with Kozmotis as he claimed - why wouldn't she have been. Nobody could have arranged it better.

But his other half, that of a young man, a young lover simply wanted to throw a tantrum. She surely lied. Kozzy deserves better. She'll never treat him right. She's making him leave!

"She knows you're a soldier, right?" he inquired. "That you need to go back to the borders."

"We discussed that in depth," Pitchiner assured him. Much to Artemis' chagrin, that delighted smile never faded for a moment. "I have spoken to her father and secured his blessing; both of our families are in agreement that we should be wed as soon as possible."

Then came another blow. With his eyes and cheeks aglow, Kozmotis leaned in to drop his voice, which quivered in excitement. "She believes she is with my child."

The Tsar wasn't sure who to kill first: himself, the witch stealing the love of his life, or the smug bastard in front of him. If she was truly pregnant... they fell into each other's arms rather quickly. And now Kozmotis was becoming a father...

That managed to ease some of the pain, because having an heir, a child of his own flesh and blood delighted every man. Artemis had no doubt that he'll be the uncle of the child. A baby was a blessing, and Kozmotis deserved all the good things life could bestow on a man; so Artemis was happy for that, at least. He finally stepped closer and embraced his friend. "Congratulations..." he murmured. "You'll make a dashing groom and a wonderful father. My dear friend... my beloved. Be very happy with her." His heart bled, and he was not able to claim that he was happy.

How he wished that this happiness could be infectious! Instead, he had to force a smile when Kozmotis laughed and pulled him into a tight hug. "But won't you come?" he asked as he danced Artemis across the floor, "You are like a brother to me, and if you would be my best man, I would be the luckiest bastard in all the kingdoms!"

"Of course I'll come," Artemis smiled weakly, thankful that Kozmotis was entirely way too happy to notice different moods around him. "It's just, a little sudden, especially the child - and I need to figure out a proper wedding gift to you. How- soon are you planning on doing this? I can arrange everything."

"Your attendance is gift enough!" Artemis was jerked into another bone-crushing hug. From this position, he could smell sweet perfume all over his clothing. "Oh, you've no idea how happy you've made me! We plan to marry within the month. I am recovering quickly, and I wish to spend as much time as a married man as I can manage."

"There’s no time to waste then," beneath the cheerful calm hid the wildest tempest. Artemis needed to leave, to get out, to get some air! "I know the perfect place - the Tsar’s best friend can’t get married at some tiny chapel. I’ll fetch somebody to arrange everything, you needn’t worry. Also, I know you, and I’m not going to insist on inviting the entire army... I want to see you happy." He couldn’t resist caressing that dear face gently. Kozmotis looked so strikingly handsome when he smiled...!

Pitchiner leaned into his hand, his skin so warm and incredibly soft under his fingertips. It should’ve been his. Just his to kiss, to touch.. Others were welcome to take his love for a little while, but not like this. “I am grateful, Artemis. How I adore you!"

"I know..." The Tsar nodded. Holding his friend close, his breath hitched with a little sob. “See, you made me cry... My Kozmotis, you rascal. Leaving me for a pair of pretty eyes and fathering a child no doubt as charming as you are." He pulled away and wiped his eyes. “I- I should be going now. There’s a lot to arrange, and I wouldn’t want to keep you from your bride."

"I will always be by your side," Kozmotis interjected, hand sliding around Artemis' with enough gentleness to break his heart. "I will remain in your service as long as my king will have me."

There was such confusion in his voice, concerned etched into his handsome brow and at the corners of his mouth.

Artemis steeled himself and smiled. "I could never wish for a more loyal friend and a more stalwart soldier. I'm lucky to have you and I wish you all the happiness the universe could bestow. Go to your bride. You might want to enjoy your unmarried life as well, as long as you can." He even managed to laugh a little.

It worked. Happiness brightened Kozmotis' face once more, all the stars and suns in the cursed heavens twinkling in his eyes. "Thank you, Artemis."  
He clapped a hand onto the Tsar's shoulder, then was off.

Artemis stayed for half a minute, a hand pressed against his lips while mute sobs wrecked his body. Then, he returned to his private chambers with swift steps and his head bowed low, to surrender to the pain completely.

\----------------------------------

Just after supper, somebody knocked on Kozmotis's door; he was surprised to find the Tsarina standing there, only followed by a single servant, who stayed outside.

"General Pitchiner," the Tsarina bowed her head lightly. "I apologize for disturbing you at this time, but I'm a little worried... the Tsar have locked himself up in his study this afternoon and refuses to leave. He have sent away everybody and didn't even attend dinner, claiming he was feeling unwell. Maybe it's just foolish woman thinking, but I feel like there's something else. I know that you're precious to him, he always speaks so fondly of you - would you try to talk to him?"

He looked up from his stretches, cheeks coloring in shame. Kozmotis wasn't exactly dressed to speak to the Tsarina, wearing just a pair of trousers and socks and otherwise clad in just sweat, pain, and an awkward smile. Pitchiner was well on his way to recovery, but he was not at his peak just yet--the trembling in his limbs and aching in his abdomen were proof of that.

"Milady--" Artemis was unwell? Despite his pain, he was up on his feet in an instant. "Of course I will see to him!"

He snatched a robe and draped it over his shoulders. There was something wrong with his friend and he was going to make it better, proper attire be damned! He did, however, take a moment to splash water on his face. "I know he does not intend to worry you so, madame. I will attend to him immediately."

Pitchiner took both her dainty hands and kissed them. "Please pay it no further mind."  
With that, he was off, feet barely touching the floor as he targeted the study. He managed to tie his robe shut, though he was still a poor excuse for a General when he arrived, rumpled and flushed as he was. "Artemis von Lunanoff," he called out in his best battlefield voice, words sharp and unmistakable. He beat against the door with the side of his fist. "It's Kozmotis--let me in!"

There was a long pause - he nearly raised his fist again to knock - when there was a soft noise on the other side of the door. "What do you want?" Though his voice was muffled by the wood, the Tsar sounded tired.

Something tugged at the back of his mind, a soft alarm that pleaded with him to return to his rooms. He ignored it, however, overpowering that slight hesitation with concern. "I need to see you," he replied loudly, "Artemis--Arty, please."

After another pause, the key turned in the lock and the door opened into the dark room. As Kozmotis slipped in, it took his eyes a few moments to get adjusted to the much lower light - only the moon was shining through the window, no lamp or candle was lit. In the air, the faint scent of alcohol lingered. Behind him, Artemis closed the door and leaned against the wood, his head bowed. "Take a good look, then." It was hard to make out exact details, but he appeared weary, his hair tousled, eyes washed by tears. The scent of spirits clung to him persistently, and his jacket hung open from his drooping shoulders.

His breath caught. "Stars and suns, Artemis--what have you done to yourself?!"  
He held those drooping shoulders under his hands and looked into his face. Tears, why tears?! What had happened to his beloved friend?! "Come with me. You need to lie down for a while."

After a moment's hesitation, he curled his arms around the Tsar. "I expect you to explain once you've sobered up."

He was shoved away roughly. "I don't need your pity!" Artemis snarled and with a straight back and barely any uncertainty in his steps, he walked back to his desk. He plopped down on his chair, resting his booted feet on the finely carved table. He picked up a bottle from the floor and took a swig.

"My wife asked you to come, huh? She's the one to do that. She loves me." He paused. "She does. You never even noticed. You're so damn happy, you don't notice anything."

Worry lost out to hurt; while he was a bit offended that Artemis pushed him away, there were more important matters at hand. "You're not making any sense," he replied, making sure to keep his voice even. Artemis was a fine king, but those closest to him knew his temper all too well. "I don't pity you, Arty."

Kozmotis took one step after him, testing the waters. He needed to be able to dodge a bottle if one suddenly became airborne. "Yes, the Tsarina loves you dearly, and you sent her away this evening. She is frightened for you."

He hesitated. "She asked me to come. I had no idea what transpired after this afternoon. Please tell me."

The Tsar tsked. "Of course you have no idea. You were always so oblivious when it came to this..." He took another sip, pointing the bottle toward his friend. "You transpired, my beloved. You broke my heart again. I don't know why that's anything new, all you ever did was breaking my heart over and over again." He raked his free hand through his hair, messing it further. "I should have known," he mumbled, tears thinning out his voice. "I should have known better, but I hoped and hoped and now it hurts so much. I should have grown out of it, I know, I should... I should step over it. But nobody's perfect. Not even Lunanoffs." He rose his bottle on the monologue and tilted it again.

The silence between them was awkward, marked only by the sloshing of liquid and Artemis' swallows.

He had thought that their boyish enthusiasm was long gone, their few trysts as forgotten as the essays they'd once labored over. Kozmotis had banished the strange rutting to misdirected hormones, not to anything deeper; he loved Artemis, but never as anything more than a close friend. Wasn't that enough?

He took another step forward to rest his fingertips on the bottle. "You are confused," he started slowly, "This sort of thing is common between close siblings--we are like brothers, are we not?" Pitchiner managed a small smile. "I'm not abandoning you. You will always be my Artemis!"

The Tsar didn't love him like he thought. Kozmotis swallowed hard, dismissing the panic that gnawed at his stomach.

"You never once believed it was more, right?" Artemis inquired sarcastically. "You always though it wrong for some reason, so you convinced yourself you were just a friend for me. Every time I said I loved you, every time I called you beloved, you just ignored it. Every time I told you how I envy your lovers, you waved it off. When I offered myself, you shoved me away." He glared into the darkness with a frown. "And I can't even blame you. You're just not into it, and here you go, being so damn nice to me even now that I could strangle you with my own hands. Which I probably won't, 'cause, y'know, I love you." He emptied the bottle and dropped it by the chair's feet. "Don't tell me you're not leaving me, you're about to get married. I'll never be able to kiss you again, take you into my hand or mouth. Instead, I can watch you prancing at your wife's side, I can still worry for you while you're fighting Fearlings... I still have your friendship, and it's not that I don't cherish it! But your body is off limits." He glared at Kozmotis darkly. "And royalties don't do well with 'off limits'."

He took the drunken growling just as he did any bad news, quietly processing the odds against him while simultaneously figuring out how to make things work. Somehow, this was far easier to accomplish when in the heat of a violent, bloody battle than in the comfort of the Lunanoff palace.

"You know as well as I that there is no future to be had between two men." Pitchiner wished he sounded more confident, but during the war, he'd developed a sixth sense for danger. He was feeling it now. "I regret entertaining your whims, but I do not regret being your friend."

"The future is what you make of it!!" The Tsar was on his feet in the next heartbeat, leaning into Kozmotis’ face. "Wasn’t that our slogan back at the Academy? Wasn’t it what they taught us? That commoners can rise to ranks and a good king can build the strongest empire even out of stardust?! We could have worked! We still could, but I know you, ooh, I know you all too well, that prudish reluctance you handled me with... I should have known at the first time that you merely endured my advances out of some twisted sense of duty...! You made me hope! And now you found the perfect excuse to finally be rid of me!" He grabbed Pitchiner’s head with both hands, though his grip was still not forceful enough to hurt.

"The worst thing of all is that you were never able to want me or love me and I can’t fault you for that. But the pain you caused... I can’t forgive that."

There was an icy feeling building up in his chest, a sensation he knew but refused to name, because it was ridiculous.

All he had to do was reason with himself that he was in no actual danger. Artemis was spoiled (had always been spoiled) and lashed out like a child when he was denied his desires. "You're drunk," Kozmotis replied flatly, grasping both Artemis' wrists in his hands so he could peel them away. "Let's get you a bath and some hot tea, and we can talk about this in the morning."

"Do you really think you can just back out of this without facing the consequences?" The Tsar flicked his wrists, grabbed those of his friend's and with remarkable coordination, twisted Kozmotis' arm behind his back. Normally, he wouldn't have been able to pull that off, but the general was not expecting the attack. "I'm still not drunk enough to forgive high treason!" Artemis pushed at him, basically tackling Pitchiner chest-first against the desk. "You deserve this, traitor."

The sharp pain whited out his vision, but ever the strong soldier, Pitchiner did little more than hiss quietly. Crushed against the wood surface of the desk, it took him a moment to catch his breath. "Artemis, listen to yourself! You're not making any sense!"  
While his voice was strong, the fear made the ends of his words quiver noticeably. This couldn't be possible. Artemis would never--

"Let me up before I have to hurt you," he snarled over his shoulder, planting his feet and his free hand so he could throw Artemis off if he didn't comply. "This isn't funny."

"No, this isn't, not the slightest!" The Tsar snarled. "And you have hurt me enough already. You can't anymore. I am your ruler and unless you want to scrub the decks of your precious ship, you will obey me! Or would you rather if I had your little bride do that? Scrubbing decks out at the borders where Fearlings consume the lost souls? You will cater to my wish!"

He struggled until the mention of his fiancee--her beautiful, dark eyes, wide with terror as she backed away from the undulating wisps of darkness, her hand protectively over her stomach while she cried out for help--

"You wouldn't," he breathed. "Artemis.."

"You will not move," the dark whisper was like a Fearling, worming its way into the soul. "Not an inch. You will obey me, or you two will never see each other again!" Kozmotis couldn’t see what his friend - _his friend?_ \- was doing, but he heard a drawer opening. He also felt his robe being turned up and his pants tugged off.

"You have a delicious backside," Artemis murmured fondly, giving the firm flesh a squeeze. “So firm. Never touched with inappropriate intentions. Well, everything ends, doesn’t it."

He was starting to hyperventilate. Pitchiner had never been this terrified in his life, not facing a seemingly endless wave of Fearlings, not proposing marriage to his beloved, not even striking the Tsarevich himself in the face!

Staring down at the polished wood desktop, he had to fight back the need to cry or vomit. His cock was flaccid, bladder aching in fearful anticipation. "You're my friend, Artemis..! Please--"

"I have been your friend long enough," came the cold reply. "Now I'm going to be something else. Your king. And your lover." A finger coated with something slippery pressed against Kozmotis' entrance. It didn't enter abruptly though, not like he supposed it would; Artemis was preparing him calmly, even gently.

"Don't be so tense... I'm not trying to hurt you. I might, accidentally, if you don't cooperate. But I just want to love you, like you never have been loved," the Tsar murmured. "You think it's wrong but it's not. After all, kings don't stoop low enough to do sinful things, do they? I'll show you what it's like." His free hand slipped between the strong thighs to cup and fondle Pitchiner, and as Artemis continued to prepare and loosen the rings of muscles, he kept on murmuring endearments.

If there was such a thing as twisted love, this was it.

He flinched from the touch, and though he tried to disassociate himself from this event (like he'd been trained if he was ever captured and tortured), the soft touches couldn't be ignored.

This wasn't love. This was power and ego, one man using another as a tool for his own pleasure.

Kozmotis' member remained soft and his muscles remained hard, so tense that his legs trembled as he muffled his silent sobs into his arms. He hated the tears rolling down his cheeks--he was a General, by the stars!--he hated the gentle stroking, he hated the sweet voice..

His hips bucked away, as he tried to grind the front of his pelvis against the desk.

A few minutes ticked by and Artemis finally deemed the torture enough. He free himself from the confines of his pants and soon, he brushed the tip if his slickened penis against Kozmotis' entrance.

"There we go... Finally you'll be mine, every part of you." He pushed in, steadily but slowly, gritting his teeth. "K-Kozmotis, hnn! Relax, my beloved... Oh by the moons...!"

He didn't stop until he was fully sheathed inside, leaning on his arms above his friend. "You feel so good... How much I wanted this."

His body immediately clenched tight to fend off the intrusion, but Artemis von Lunanoff's will and a generous helping of oil overcame this last defense easily enough.

He was trapped. When he tried to push forward, he found himself blocked by the desk; Artemis' arms prevented escape to the sides. So that burn continued, that horrible stretching, shoving disgust and terror up into his stomach.

Kozmotis swallowed back the nausea and choked on howls of pain.

Artemis couldn't have that last shred of his dignity. He'd bite through his own tongue before he made a single sound.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he dug his nails into the desk, locked his knees, and prayed for it all to be over soon.

With a sigh, his tormentor began to move, pulling out and sliding back, spearing the general again and again. Artemis kept on talking but half his words were breathless, barely audible. His broken confessions and pleading to the Stars accompanied the sound of skin slapping on skin.

The words soon turned to moans and a hand began to roam over Kozmotis' back, caressing him and slipping under his rope, to flatten out over the black mark. The movements were speeding up, thrusts gaining force and Artemis gasped. He was probably nearing the peak fast.

At one point, he gave one last jerk, then went completely limp. He finally retreated into his own mind, where he was safe in the arms of his wife-to-be. She stroked his hair and his back, and murmured words of love as he listened to the life growing within her.  
He was far away from this.

Hot tears continued rolling down his sharp cheekbones, puddling on the smooth desktop and smearing under the steady rubbing of his face.

The Tsar either didn't notice or chose not to notice them.

Another thrust, a second, a third; and Artemis' back arched and he grunted loudly, trembling with his release.

He kept on petting Kozmotis as he recovered, telling him how good it felt, how thankful he was, how much he loved him. He even pulled out a pristine handkerchief and cleaned the abused backside up, wiping off white drops from the thighs.

Finally, he took the last bottle, kissed the top of Pitchiner's head and left with unsteady steps.

Kozmotis Pitchiner didn't move for the longest time.

Even with Artemis gone and the stinging in his backside a fading memory, he laid face-down over the table until his legs could hold him up no more.

Numbly, he pulled his trousers up around his hips and tied them so tight it hurt. He folded his robe around himself too, but it wouldn't change anything.

Artemis had hurt him worse than any enemy of the kingdom. Their years of near-brotherhood were forever ruined, left here on the floor of the study, just like trash.

He held his head in his hands and did not move until morning.


End file.
